Personal Time
by Aggie Escott
Summary: A difficult case, and Aaron needs some time off. So who's going to miss him? Whumpathon and psychowhump! Please, enjoy and review. Poor Aaron! LOL - I think it's time to retire, Sweetie! AH/OFC noncon and swear ch8
1. Haley, Jack and Aaron

**PERSONAL TIME  
**Chapter 1  
Haley, Jack and Aaron

_**The most important thing a father can do for his children is to love their mother. - Henry Ward Beecher**_

Aaron Hotchner sat miserably in his office, his head resting on his hand. They were struggling with the case, he hadn't slept for over thirty six hours, he had a pounding headache, and now this.

_Why now, Haley. For heaven's sake, you know how difficult this is….._

"Haley, I can't do it. This is a difficult case. You know my responsibilities here." he said softly, knowing what the end result would be. "I can't just walk out."

"Ok fine!" she said, her voice rising. "It will have to be temporary foster care."

"Stop it, Haley." He sighed. "Ok, ok, I'll do what I can!"

"Well you had better be quick. I'm going in on Wednesday."

"I'll fly out and pick him up Wednesday morning."

He cut the connection, and looked through the office window at his team. This was going to be difficult, but it had to be done. He had three days to rest so that he was in a fit state to take care of his son, get the room ready for him and then go and pick him up from their new place in California. He hated Jack being so far away. It meant long periods of access, which made it difficult at work, and he couldn't just have him for the afternoon like he used to. But as usual, it was always on Haley's terms.

He leaned on his desk wearily and stood up. Might as well get this over and done with. He left his office and crossed the walkway to Dave's. Dave saw him coming, and beckoned him in.

"Not sure if this is the right time to say this, Aaron, but you don't look well."

_Great! Thanks!_

Aaron sat down in the chair opposite his old friend. "Dave, I need urgent personal time." Aaron knew Dave wouldn't ask why or ask for any explanations. But he felt obliged to give them anyway. "Haley's going into hospital. I need to fly out to California to take care of Jack."

Dave held his hands up, palms out. "You don't need to explain anything to me. I know you wouldn't leave a case unless it was very important. And god knows you have plenty of leave to take. Any idea how long?" Dave asked. "Probably not, if it's hospital. Is Haley ok?"

"No. No idea how long it'll be. She's fine, it's routine. Might be a week or so. I'll keep in touch though."

"I will be available for consultation, Dave." he said. "I'll ok it with Strauss."

"I'll do Strauss." Dave said with a smile. "You know how it is!"

Aaron smiled. Yes he knew very well. Erin Strauss would love to find an excuse to depose Aaron. Dave had her round his little finger. Aaron often wondered it they had history, but he would never ask.

"That'd be great. And thanks, Dave. I owe you."

"I don't think so. Not after Hunt." he stood up and walked round his desk. "You go. I'll tell the team."

Aaron noticed how Dave walked slightly bent forward. Seem neither of them were fully recovered. had the sudden urge to hug him. He didn't though. He just thanked him and left.

-0-0-0-

Spencer watched Aaron walk across to the lift. He looked pale and sick. Reid had been concerned about him since he came back to work after the Hunt case. He had done some research, and what Aaron had been through could cause kidney damage, and he seemed to be exhibiting all the symptoms. Maybe he was sick and was going home. He looked across at Morgan.

"Where's he going?"

"Don't ask me." responded Morgan helpfully. He had also noticed how ill Hotch had looked lately. Can't hide from a profiler! "He could be going home to rest up a bit."

Morgan went back to his work. Reid frowned. Something was wrong here. He just couldn't put his finger on it.

_I hope you are ok, Aaron……_

He decided to call by at his place later, to see if he needed anything. Reid knew he would never ask for help, but he usually accepted help when it was offered.

He got up and went into the conference room where the main board was set up. The victims looked down at him accusingly. What was the connection? What was it?

"You know, don't you." he said out loud. It wasn't age, sex, appearance, orientation, politics, social status, marital status, credit history, drug use, education, shoe size…………….They were running out of things to check.

He pulled a chair out and sat in front of the board, staring back at them.

"Come on," he said to the faces. "Inspire me."

They stared back silently.

-0-0-0-

Aaron drove home slowly. He really didn't feel well. He decided he would call his doctor in the morning. He needed to shop for new bedding and stuff for Jack, and get some nice kiddy food in for him, he wanted to paint his room too. And book flights for him to get to California, and for both to get back. Haley had said at first that she didn't want Jack in Virginia, but at least she had relented on that.

"Tough if you didn't." he said aloud.

He turned his car into the driveway and up to his garage door. He rarely put the car away any more, not since the remote door opener had broken. He sat in the car for a moment, looking around into the large front garden. He used to imagine playing ball out here with his boy, but now that would never happen.

Maybe, though, this week, it would! Jacky could 'help' him clear the garden which had been neglected lately. He'd hire a skip, and then they could play out here together.

_Sounds like a plan!_

He smiled, really smiled, for the first time in a long time. He took his keys from the ignition, and got out of the car.

Soon, he thought, soon there would be laughter in this house again, and it wouldn't look so damned empty and uninviting! He'd fix the garden lights too, so that they came on when there was a movement outside. Another thing that he'd not bothered to fix.

No one to nag him to.

He crunched up the gravel path to the front door, wondering at how all his dreams had turned into mist that day when he came home and Haley was gone. He didn't dream any more. Dreams were elusive, incorporeal. He would never fall into that trap again.

He unlocked the door and entered his house - not a home any more. Home meant family, love, laughter. This was just a house - no connotations. Kicking the door closed behind him, he headed for the sofa and threw himself down without turning the lights on. He turned sideways and hooked his legs over the arm and shoved a cushion behind his head.

_God I'm tired………._

And he slipped into a deep and heavy sleep filled with dreams and monsters……..

-0-0-0-

"Is this the right time, do you think?" Stef said, a little anxious about this whole thing.

"He's alone, it's dark, the door's not shut." Phil answered. "It won't get any easier than this. That, and time's running out." He smacked the base ball bat onto his open palm. "Let's go." He opened the car door.

"It would have been better if they were lovers though. Pity we can't wait a bit longer." Kate said. "I'm sure they'll hook up sooner or later."

"Not soon enough." Jake said. "The feelings are there, and that's what we've got to work with." He got out of the car. "Camera ready, Kate?"

"Oh yes!" she said. "Watch out Steven Spielberg!" She loved this bit.

The four of them got out of the car and crept up the path to Aaron's door. They had noticed already that the garden lights didn't work. That was good. They had been watching the house for a few days now, waiting for an opportunity to snatch him. This was his first time home since they began the surveillance, and he was making it just so easy. For a Fed, he had very little idea of security. Maybe he just didn't care, but pretty soon he would wish he had cared.

Stef pushed open the door,. It creaked slightly, and they froze. But no sound came from the darkened house. Kate turned on the camcorder, and the men pulled masks over their faces. They were not the stars of this particular show.

Jake switched on his flashlight with his hand over the beam. Moving his fingers to let a little light out, he passed the beam through the room. Hotchner was on the sofa. Sleeping.

Kate filmed.

The three men crept silently to stand next to him. For a second or two, they watched the man sleep. His last peaceful sleep for a long time.

If ever.

Jake punched the sleeping man full in the mouth. Aaron's eyes snapped open, looking up in confusion. Before he could even think, he was dragged off the sofa onto his feet, held by two, and a third standing in front of him. He could feel his mouth was full of blood, his teeth were loosened. Someone was filming.

"What do you want?" Aaron said, feeling the blood running, dripping from his chin. "Why are you….."

Phil swung the bat and Aaron tried to bend forward. He pulled against the men holding him, and he tried to keep his head up.

"What….." he gasped.

The next hit was under the chin. His head snapped back, and this time he couldn't prevent the cry of pain and shock. His knees gave way, and he was being held up by his assailants.

"Drop him."

Aaron hit the floor in front of the three men. He felt the kicks, and at first he tried to get up and defend himself. No-one was going to take him in his own house without a fight. But the kicks became harder, and he just curled up on the floor, trying to protect himself as best he could. Someone kicked his groin, and he thought he was going to pass out. He stopped moving, and lay in the gathering pool of blood on the carpet.

"That's enough, we don't want him dead." a voice said. "Not yet anyway."

"Please…..what….do you…..want…..?"

"Nothing from you." Someone gripped his hair and turned him onto his back. "Hello Hotchner."

They knew his name. Not random then.

He felt strong hands on his upper arms again, and he was hauled to his feet. He raised his head, to try to recognise who was attacking him, but they were masked. He watched the person with the camera. They were filming this? Some kind of snuff movie? Blackmail?

It was then he noticed that it was a woman filming. No mask. He didn't recognise her. So the masks were not to prevent him remembering them. Masks were for the film.

_Think, Aaron! Think!_

He looked at the man in front of him. The base ball bat swung again, and it hit him hard under the eye. A cracking sound as a bone broke, and oblivion.


	2. Video Messaging

**PERSONAL TIME  
Chapter 2  
Video Messaging**

_**'Every man is afraid of something. That's how you know he's in love with you; when he's afraid of losing you' ANON**_

Reid drove into Aaron's front garden and pulled up behind Aaron's car. So he still hadn't fixed the remote yet. Reid smiled to himself, and got out of the car, and looked up at the house. It was three in the morning, and the house was in darkness. He went to the front door and turned the handle. It was locked, and there were no sounds from within.

_That's good, he's sleeping._

He turned and went back to his car and reversed out of the drive onto the empty streets. He'd call his cell in the morning, just to make sure he was ok. Things hadn't been going so well for Aaron lately, what with Haley taking Jack to California, and him being so ill after Hunt. All he needed was some personal time to recover. He had gone straight back to work after being discharged from hospital, but they all knew he needed more time.

Reid drove straight home. He had been taking the stairs to his apartment lately in a bid to stay fit, but today he only took the stairs for two flights. He took the lift (which he hated – even more so since being stuck in one with Morgan) and when he got to his bedroom, he fell onto the bed and went to sleep unshowered and fully dressed.

_I'll do it in the morning..._

-0-0-0-

Hands pulling at him, removing his clothing. He tried to prevent it from happening, but he felt weak and ineffectual. He was kneeling on the floor and people were holding his hair and arms, ripping at his shirt and tee shirt, cutting them off his body. He opened his eyes to see who it was, and a fist hit his face. He closed his eyes again. He tried to speak to them, and his head was wrenched back, and a small cry escaped his lips. His neck cracked, and he couldn't speak at all. When they had stripped him above the waist, they unfastened his trousers and roughly turned him over so that he was face down on the ground.

"Are you filming this?"

A kick in the side of his head by way of answer, his trousers were pulled away. He turned his head to the side and opened his eyes a little. Yes, he could see the woman filming again. He didn't speak again. He was turned onto his back again, and lifted off the ground.

He kicked and fought to make them drop him. He turned and bit into the hand around his right arm. There was a howl, and the hand let go. He swung his body sideways, and gripped the wrist of the hand holding his left arm. Hotch was a strong man, but there were at least four of them. He reached up with his free arm and found a face. He dug his fingers into eyes, but that was as far as he got. He was still off the ground when something hit the side of his body. Dizziness overwhelmed him, and his hand fell away. The hands let go, and he fell to the ground.

A face, very close to his. He could feel the breath on his skin.

"That was very foolish Agent Aaron Hotchner. Very foolish." he said. "We had nothing against you, you see. but now we do. You have hurt my friend, and he's not happy, as you can imagine. He wants to do the next bit, and I'm inclined to oblige him."

Aaron was trying to catch his breath. But he needed to understand what was going on. He tried to speak again, aware that it could earn him another beating.

"What...do you...want...with me?"

"Nothing, Sweet Boy, Nothing!" and he grabbed Aaron's fringe and banged his head on the ground.

For a little while, the world went dark for Aaron Hotchner.

-0-0-0-

Aaron was in a lot of pain. He thought some ribs were broken, his face hurt, and one eye wouldn't open. He attempted to move, but all that did was make him hurt more. He relaxed his muscles, and tried to remember everything. He thought he'd been beaten some more while he was out cold. He thought that might have been 'the next bit' that he had been threatened with.

He had been stripped, he remembered that. He'd taken a beating, but then said they wanted nothing from him. He tried to think. His brain was not working as well as it should. He'd been unwell before this started. And he didn't feel a whole lot better now. He started to take stock. He ran his tongue over his teeth. Most were loose, but that didn't matter too much. There was one missing at the side. The back of his head was bleeding, he could feel the blood in his hair. Below that it was just pain – every part of him had been kicked or beaten.

He couldn't tell how much damage had been done. He wanted to sit up and check, but he wasn't ready to move yet. Cracked ribs, and possibly a cracked cheek bone. Other than that he couldn't tell. But he had to move. Or at least try.

Slowly he tried to turn over. He needed to get up.

That was when he felt the metal loops around his arms, just above the elbows. There was one around his neck, and one round each of his legs, just above the knees. Not so tight that they hurt, but tight enough to stop him from moving. He could raise his forearms, and that was it. He could turn his head a little, but not much.

Directly above him he could see the sky, but through a glass roof. He couldn't turn far enough to see the sides of the room.

_What the hell was this place?_

He dug his fingers into the ground. Sand? Very soft. The restraints must go down deep. It was very hot too, and the air was dry. He was starting to feel the effects of it now. He licked his dry lips, tasting blood, and feeling the roughness.

"What do you want?" His voice was croaky, and the band around his neck made talking difficult. But he still managed it. If they were there, they would hear him.

"I thought we told you. We want nothing from you." A woman's voice.

"Were you filming me?" he asked, trying to turn his head so that he could see her. She was out of range though. "Can I see you please?"

"No." was all she said.

"Are you filming now?"

"I was. I'm finished for today."

He thought he heard her moving away, but it was hard to tell on the sand. "Come back...Please!"

He heard a door close, and he was alone again. He looked up at the sky. It was getting light now, he could see at the edge of his vision, the sky becoming blue and purple as the sun rose. The east.

He lay still, staring upwards, trying to work this out.

-0-0-0-

Reid's phone rang. It was four in the morning. He had only just closed his eyes.

Spencer didn't swear. Often. He did now though. He reached for his phone and slipped on his glasses.

It was an MMS. Sighing in annoyance, he retrieved the short video. He frowned at the title.

'Lover Boy'

He pressed 'play' and watched in horror the scene unfolding. He recognised Aaron's living room straight away. He watched Aaron sleeping on his sofa. Then he watched three men beating him until he stopped moving. Then he watched as they dragged him out of his front door.

_Oh my good god!_

Then the video ended, and a text message appeared.

_'You will keep this quiet. The film was specially made for you, and no-one else may see it. We have a little task for you to do for us, and just in case you feel reluctant to do it, we have your 'friend' here to persuade you. There is a virus with this download. You will have time to watch us beat the crap out of Agent Hotchner once more before this message will be deleted. And don't bother to talk to Penelope about it. It will be irretrievable. Sweet dreams Doctor Spencer Reid. You will hear from us very soon with an update. Remember. Don't tell a soul. Agent Hotchner here will only suffer if you do.'_

Wide awake now, Reid played the clip again. This time he ignored the cries and groans of his friend and the sounds of the fists, and looked for any clues he could see. The men wore masks. There was a lot of blood. Aaron showed no signs of recognising them.

There were no clues. Reid was gripping the phone as he watched it again. Then a second before the end, the screen on his phone went blank and the phone switched off.

He tried to turn it on again, but nothing happened. He pulled it out of the case, his hands fumbling in his haste to get the battery off and on again. He pressed the on button, and the phone booted. This was taking too long.

_Please let the message still be there..._

But it wasn't; it had gone, as they said it would.

Reid sat on his bed and stared at the phone.

_What the hell was going on?_

He pulled his jeans on and ran down to his car. There was no traffic on the streets, and it didn't take long to get to Aaron's. He pulled up where he had before, and ran to the door. He remembered that he had tried to open it before. He doubted they'd have left prints though. He took his gun off his belt and held it ready. There was a chance they were still here, although he doubted they would send the video before they were well away from there. He got Aaron's key from over the door, and opened the door, touching it only with his finger tips, using a tissue over his fingers. He reached in and turned the light on.

The coffee table was overturned. There was blood on the floor and on the sofa. He took a step inside, careful not to touch anything or step on anything. No-one must know he's been here. He was going to have to do this alone whatever it was. He had no instructions yet.

He took his glasses off and put them in his pocket. Slowly he looked at everything that had been disturbed. The blood on the sofa, that was when he had been punched in the mouth...Reid's stomach twisted as he thought about it, and he thought he was going to be sick. He clamped his hand across his mouth and ran outside into the early morning air. Nothing crapped up a crime scene quite as badly as a vomit spray contamination. He managed to control it, and he leaned on the wall breathing heavily. He needed to get away from there, and quickly. He locked Aaron's door and replaced the key, wiping his prints off it first.

His head was in a turmoil on the drive back. How the hell was he going to deal with this? Would they know if he told anyone? And who could he tell? Rossi? Not Morgan, that was for certain. It would have to be Dave. But he had nothing. No proof. And what if they did find out he'd told someone? Would they kill him?

When he arrived home, he went straight back to bed. He checked that his phone was on, then he checked it again. He held it in his hand, just in case he didn't wake up if it rang. He checked then that 'vibrate' was enabled. He lay flat on the bed, watching the scene play out over and over. He went through the words of the text.

_...You will have time to watch us beat the crap out of Agent Hotchner once more before this message will be deleted..._

Oh god...oh god...oh god...


	3. Do Not Open

**PERSONAL TIME  
**Chapter 3  
Do Not Open

_**Bamboo is a great plant for individuals concern with a green environment. There are some 1500 different species that are native to every continent except Europe. /bamboofacts.html**_

Reid didn't sleep again that night. He lay on the bed going over and over what he'd seen and trying to decide what to do.

They knew his name and cell number. They could know if he told anyone. If he told Dave it would have to be somewhere where they don't usually go. But what if they followed him? They had obviously followed Aaron.

How did they get in? There was no forced entry. Not through the front anyway. He hadn't looked over the house. Did they find his key? Reid had told him again and again about that!

Reid's brain was closing down. Lack of sleep and too much coffee tended to do that. Caffeine only worked for so long.

He got up before his alarm and showered. Standing with his back to the spray, he let the water wash his hair forwards. He switched the spray onto the most powerful, and felt the water hammer on his back. Usually it helped, massaging away the strain of the last few days. Today it wasn't helping though. The words and images in his mind wouldn't wash away.

He leaned on the tiled wall, and slid down. Sitting in the shower, he clasped his arms around his legs and rested his head on his knees.

_Oh god, Aaron, I don't know what to do! I can't risk your life...What are they doing to you...my brain's fouled up..._

Sitting there in the shower, the hot water beating down on him, Spencer fell asleep.

-0-0-0-

Aaron woke with a start, shocked that he'd managed to sleep. He wondered if he had been drugged. He couldn't remember being given anything, but they had knocked him out. They could have done anything to him then.

"Did you drug me?" he asked. He didn't know if anyone was listening. He couldn't turn his head to check. He pulled his arms up, but the chains were tight. They felt tighter, but that could be his imagination.

"Are you there?"

"Yes." The woman

"Did you drug me?" h asked again.

"No. I just film."

"Why? What are you doing this for? What information do you want?" he said, feeling desperate. "I can't do what you want if you don't tell me." A door opened and closed.

"You are doing what we want." A man's voice this time. "At least you soon will be."

The man leaned over him. "Don't ask questions."

"But you can't expect..."

The man placed a foot either side of Aaron's hips and knelt down, resting on Aaron's bare chest. Aaron tried to pull away; he pressed his head down into the sand.

"We expect you to do as you are told, Hotchner. We know no-one will be looking for you. You will NOT ask questions. Your role in this is to feel pain. We haven't written the end yet." The man's face looked down at Aaron. He was almost smiling. "Let's just see how it plays out shall we?"

"But..."

A ringed fist punched his cheek. He felt the skin rip and the bones grind together. His head rocked to the side and the thin metal ring dug into his neck. A small cry of distress escaped his bleeding lips.

The man stood up and walked away.

"Show him, Stef."

Stef stepped forward and stood where the other man had stood. He didn't kneel. He wore a mask.

_They're filming this..._

In his hand he had a length of bamboo pole. The end had been cut at an angle.

"Do you know what this is?"

Aaron nodded. Stef rested the angled end against Aaron's cut cheek.

"You feel how sharp this is?"

Aaron moved his head slightly again.

Stef stepped back so that his feet were next to Aaron's knees. The bamboo was still resting on Aaron's face.

"Can you feel this?" Stef pressed the point into Aaron's broken flesh. He tried to pull back. His eyes were closed.

"Yes." He whispered.

Stef removed the point and suddenly without warning dug it deep into Aaron's thigh. Aaron tried to move, but he was trapped. His eyes widened and he gasped and cried out as blood welled up around the wood. Stef pressed it deep into his flesh; Aaron's eyes were watering, and he bit down on his lip to prevent the scream that was in his throat from escaping.

Stef twisted the bamboo and yanked it out. Blood flooded out of the hole that it left and ran down the sides of his leg.

_Oh god oh god oh god..._

Aaron just wanted to hold the wound, cover it with trembling fingers. He clenched his fists and allowed himself a low moan of agony. He just wanted to know why! If he was going to die here, he needed to know what his death would achieve.

Aaron gasped... .trying to breathe...

The woman stepped into his view. She was filming. Close up of his leg. Close up of his face.

Stepping away... she was gone... the lights turned off... a door closed.

He was alone in the dark crying with frustration.

Just tell me why... please! Please!

-0-0-0-

"Hey Kid! Are you ok? What are you doing?"

Spencer jumped awake. He was looking through the rain... no the shower... at Morgan.

"Uh I uh..."

Morgan reached in and turned the water off, and held out a towel. Suddenly realising where he was, he snatched to towel and wrapped it around himself.

"I'll wait in the ...erm... library" was all he said, and he left the bathroom closing the door behind him.

"Living room." Spencer mumbled as he crawled out of the shower. He rubbed the towel over himself, getting the drops off, but he was still wet when he dressed in clean albeit crumpled clothes. He gave his hair a quick rub and finger combed it. He glanced in the mirror on his way out of the bathroom, and wished he hadn't.

"So what was that all about?"

"I'd thank you," Spencer said, feeling annoyed, "Not to enter my bathroom with out knocking. I could have been..."

... (I was)...

"I did knock. I rang the door bell, hammered on the door, called your cell and land line, knocked the bathroom door, and shouted your name." Morgan said. "You are three hours late for work. Rossi sent me to find you."

"I was asleep."

"Evidently!" Morgan said, getting up off the sofa. "So are you coming to work? Or do you want a shower first?"

Reid scowled at his 'big bro'. "I'm coming." He said. He picked up his bag ad followed Morgan out of the apartment. "We'll take my car back." Morgan said. Reid was in no mood to argue. He got in the car next to Morgan and got out his mobile.

Three missed calls and a MMS.

_Oh no not another..._

One missed call from Rossi, two from Morgan.

He glanced over at Morgan. He didn't dare open the MMS now. He could give something away. He put the phone away. As soon as he was alone, he'd look.

"You ok, Kid? You look pale."

"Tired." Was all he could say. Just one word and his voice still shook. Morgan frowned at him, but said nothing. He'd figure it out. Reid was the least able of all of them to hide what was going on inside.

As soon as Morgan parked the car, Reid was out.

"I'll just be a moment." He said, and ran to the main doors. Morgan watched him go.

"I'll figure it out, Kid," he said. "You know I will."

-0-0-0-

Reid went to the men's room and locked himself in the stall. He got out his phone again.

With shaking fingers he plugged in the ear phones and opened the message.

Several short clips this time.

In the first, Aaron was lying on the floor. He looked unconscious. Someone in a mask held a syringe up to the camera and injected something through Aaron's clothes into his groin.  
Then another clip, four men were stripping him, cutting his clothes off. He couldn't hear what they were saying to him, but he wasn't fighting. They had drugged him to keep him quiet. When he did try to speak, they hit him.  
Third clip. Four masked men were carrying him, and this time he was fighting. Reid gripped the phone with white fingers, trying to hold it still.  
_Don't fight them, Aaron. There'd too many of them!  
_His fighting earned him a kicking, and they dropped him to the floor. Reid could feel tears in his eyes.  
_What the hell do you want?  
_Now Aaron was lying on his back, it looked like sand, but he couldn't be sure. He was chained down, and wasn't moving. His face was bloodied and cut. This clip was longer than the others. A man stepped astride him with a length of bamboo, which he pressed onto Aaron's face and then suddenly stabbed his leg with it. It was pressed and twisted deep in the muscle, and pulled out. Blood poured out of the wound, Reid thought the bamboo had taken flesh out with it. He felt really sick. A close shot of the blood welling out of the hole in his leg, then the camera moved to Aaron's face. Reid wiped his eyes as he looked on the agony and pain in his friend's eyes.

Now words.

_Time for instructions, Doctor Spencer Reid. They will be sent to your E-mail address. You have thirty eight seconds to watch the clip again. Remember, it's our secret._

Reid stood up quickly and turned around. He threw up, and managed to get most of it in the toilet. His eyes were watering and his throat hurt retching on nothing. He missed the chance of watching the clips again; he desperately tried to remember everything he saw. He gripped the sides of the pan as his guts twisted and heaved.

When at last he thought he had finished, he pulled off some paper and wiped his streaming eyes. Then some more to clear up the mess on the floor.

He flushed the chain and leaned against the wall. He couldn't walk into the bull pen like this. He unlocked the door and went to the hand basins and filled one with cold water. He submerged his face and grabbed a towel and dried himself off. He stared at himself in the mirror.

_What a state. They're going to know something is wrong.  
Yes, but they won't know what.  
Aaron, I am going to get through this for you. I promise..._

He picked up his bag and phone off the floor and made his way back to the bull pen.

-0-0-0-

Dave Rossi watched Reid stumble back to his desk. Morgan had been up and told him that he had found Reid asleep in the shower, and at first it had been an amusing image. But it really wasn't funny. Now seeing the state he was in, Rossi became very concerned. He didn't look capable of feeding himself, let alone writing up a profile. And he needed everyone on top performance on this case, especially now they were a man down.

He sighed, and looked at what were essentially his profilers for the time being. He knew they were the best. Aaron had carefully picked, or in Prentiss's case, allowed to stay, each one. And it was a damned good team. But it was a team. One man down they could work around. Two down, he wasn't sure if the others could take up that much slack.

He had planned a meeting for today; get any new thoughts into the open. He'd see how Reid made out, and depending on that, he might have a chat with him afterwards.

He picked up the phone to call Garcia and Jareau. Then he'd go out and call the others.

-0-0-0-

Spencer turned on his computer and waited impatiently for it to boot up. It seemed to take forever, but it was only about thirty seconds.

_You have 35 new messages._

He quickly scanned down the list. There was one from unknown sender.

_Warning. This message is from an unverified sender. Do not open._

Reid opened it, and his world fell apart.


	4. Covering

**PERSONAL TIME  
**Chapter 4  
Covering

_**Schizophrenia cannot be understood without understanding despair. **__**R. D. Laing **_

"Ok, BAU team in the conference room in ten." Dave called across the bull pen. "We need to make some headway on this case."

Emily and Morgan began to get their papers together. Spencer was staring at his screen.

"Reid," Emily said, coming up behind him. "Are you ok? You still look really tired."

Spencer jumper guiltily and slammed his lap top closed. Emily took a step back.

"Reid?"

"I'm uh fine Emily." He said, trying to smile disarmingly and failing miserably. "You just made me jump."

"You don't look very well. I wondered if there was anything I could do."

_Yes there is! You can help me find Hotch. He's been abducted and beaten..._

"No, I'm fine. You're right. I'm tired."

"Ok." She backed away, and returned to her desk to pick up the work she had done, and walked with Morgan to the conference room. She glanced back over her shoulder and saw Reid open his lap top again and switch it off. Then he got his bag from the back of his chair and followed them.

Rossi was already there, frowning at the board, rubbing his chin with his knuckle. There had to be some kind of connection. He stood with his back to the team and listened as they settled down. He hoped they could come up with some kind of lead. He turned and faced them.

"Firstly, I need to let you know that Hotch will be off the case for a week or two," Rossi said, "but will be available for telephone consultation. He has requested, and been given, personal time. So, do we have anything new?"

"We can cover. It's fine." said Morgan. In the case, the only connection we've come up with so far is the mode of death and the dump site." said Morgan.

"We've worked the information back to the bone, Sir, and we can't see anything." Emily added.

Reid pulled a bunch of papers from his bag and put them on the table. He was staring at the top page, pretending to read it.

"Do you have anything, Reid?" he heard Dave ask. He quickly looked up. "Geographic? Anything at all new on victimology?"

Spencer shook his head. All he could think about was the e-mail. He could feel beads of sweat on his fore head.

Behind Dave, the twelve seemingly random victims accused him. Now they had a right to.

'_Sabotage the case, or Hotchner dies. Lead the team away from the UnSub, or Hotchner dies. Tell anyone, and Hotchner dies. Try to trick us, and Hotchner dies. And when we say 'dies' be assured that it won't be easy. Your choice, Doctor Spencer Reid. Stand by for further updates'_

"N-nothing." He looked down and began to flick through papers. Morgan noticed that Reid was screwing up the pages where he was holding them. Something was seriously wrong. He pushed the thought away for the moment. Dave was going through each victim one at a time, and writing down under their picture everything they knew about each one. He had each victim on a separate board, so there would be room to write everything. Pretty soon the first two boards were full.

The first one was a twenty two year old ex heroin user, Ffion Powell  
The next was a fifty one year old bank manager, Colly Davis

They moved onto the third.

That's when it clicked for Reid. The connection!

Oh god. The connection.

"Reid? Do you have something?" Rossi said.

"N-no...no I d-don't." He stammered. "Erm...well. Could they be random? I mean something like the third person to pass by, like a game of some kind?"

"We did look at that before Reid, if you remember, and it was you who said it couldn't be, and gave some very good reasons to back that up." Rossi said, looking puzzled. "Have you thought of something to make you change your mind?"

"Just a f-feeling." He said. "Please, Rossi, I don't feel so good. I have a headache, and I have left my glasses at home. I need to go and get them."

"Right." Dave said. "Break for lunch. Take an hour, for Reid to get home and back." The team members left their things on the table, and left the room. Spencer was about to follow.

"Not you, Reid. I need to have a word."

Spencer sat down again. He looked up at Dave, who was sitting on the edge of the table. So this was to be an informal, unofficial 'word'.

"What's going on with you Reid? Are you ill?"

"I'm just over tired, Rossi. I just need some time to catch up."

Dave sighed and leaned on the table on his fists. "Take the rest of the day off, Reid. You are of no value to the team like this, and you could be heading for a burn out. Go to sleep. In bed preferably. And get back here in the morning with a bit more life in you."

"Ok," he said, looking down into his lap. "Thanks."

He got up and left without looking at Dave. Dave watched him go, troubled by what he had seen.

-0-0-0-

The light came on and Aaron blinked. He felt very hot. The sand felt too hot under his shoulder blades, heels and elbows. Something was digging in his back, and the roughness of the sand had abraded the skin as he arched his body, and he thought he could feel the sand sticking to the raw flesh where he pressed down when he lifted his back off the sand. The chain loops around him felt tighter. He was thirsty. Looking up at the sky, he thought he'd been here for about two days. No one would miss him yet, unless Dave called him for a consultation.

"Hello!" he cried out weakly. "Please, I need some water."

A minute or so later, a masked man came into view. He had a sponge in his hand, which he lowered to Aaron's mouth. Aaron sucked at it, and felt relief as he drank the water droplets. Then when he had taken a little, the sponge was taken away.

"Enough for today." The masked man said. "Are you feeling any discomfort?"

Aaron nodded.

"That's nothing, Hotchner. Wait a couple of hours. By the end of the day, you will experience pain for the first time in your life." He said. "I have something to show you. Something I am sure you will recognise."

-0-0-0-

Reid drove home faster than he ought. He just wanted to think. He had the connection. How could he not tell the team? But the victims were already dead. He sentencing Aaron to a horrible death wouldn't bring them back. And there hadn't been another killing for almost two weeks. If the spree was over, it didn't matter if he stalled the investigation for a day or two, while he searched for Hotch.

He drove past his apartment block and went to Aaron's. Any clue as to his whereabouts would be there.

He pulled up behind Aaron's car again, got out and ran to the door. He pushed the key in the lock, and opened the front door. As he switched the light on, he froze in shock.

The room had been cleaned. There was not a thing out of place. The blood had been cleaned from off the sofa and carpet. The table was back in position. It was as if nothing had happened there.

_What the hell..._

He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. He looked around in confusion.

Had he dreamed it? He knew he'd got the MMS, he had seen the e-mail...hadn't he?

_Oh god, no...please, no!_

He sat on Aaron's sofa, and pushed his hands into his hair. He gripped and pulled at it. Was this it? Were his faulty genes finally catching up?

_It's not real. I'm hallucinating! There's no blood, no MMS, no e-mail. Aaron was fine, having personal time somewhere with his little boy. And I'm sitting here...sitting here, losing it._

Spencer started to cry. There was one thing that had been hanging over his head like the sword of Damocles, and the thread had finally broken. He lie down on the sofa, face down with his arms wrapped around his head and cried bitterly. His life ended here, now.

He didn't move off the sofa for a good while, and gradually his heaving sobs diminished. He sat up, and tried to get his muddled thoughts into some kind of order.

None of it was real. It was in his head. Aaron was fine, playing with Jack on the other side of the country.

He was ok. It was all a horrible dream.

And then his phone rang.

-0-0-0-

The masked man held something up for Aaron to see. At first he couldn't see what it was, then, as the man brought it in closer, he saw that it was Reid's glasses.

"What are you..." The man shut him up with a kick to the face. Aaron felt sick as the kicks came again and again. He raised his forearms in a futile attempt to resist and protect himself. When finally the assault ended, the man stood on his hand and ground it down into the sand. The new fragile skin on his palm was torn and bled. Aaron was on the verge of consciousness. His back was no longer arched; something was pressing, digging into his back. Aaron groaned and his eyes rolled in their sockets, his mouth slightly open, lips dry and bleeding.

"Before you go to sleep, Hotchner," the man said, lifting his head by his fringe. Aaron opened his eyes a crack. "The owner of these glasses is in another room. We have him too."

He let go of Aaron's hair, and Aaron fainted.

-0-0-0-

One long clip this time. It was real. Very real. He could hear Aaron's cries and screams. He could see the blood flow. He could feel himself every blow on Aaron's unprotected vulnerable body. He saw the masked man hold something up for Aaron to see.

His glasses? How did they get them?

The last time I had them was here! I must have dropped them when I ran outside! They found them when... they came to clean up.

About a minute of footage of Aaron lying chained down onto the sand, bruised and bleeding, breaths coming in ragged gasps.

Then the words...

_Don't forget the instructions._

Reid threw his phone across the room in frustration. He was hoping to get some idea of where they'd taken him by coming back here, and he was too late, it was all cleaned up. The phone crashed against the wall and landed in pieces.

"No!" Spencer ran across the room to retrieve it. He needed the phone. It was his contact. Or rather theirs. All the time he was getting videos, he knew Aaron was still alive.

He had to tell Rossi. He couldn't do this on his own. He could e-mail from Aaron's computer. It wasn't likely that they'd be monitoring Aaron's computer. But they could be hacking Dave's.

He went into Aaron's office and booted up his computer. While he waited, he went through everything that he had seen, writing notes on a pad that Aaron kept on his desk.

The computer screen lit up. Reid sat back and thought for a moment. He had to pretend to be someone who might e-mail from here, and who Dave would be willing to meet, and who wouldn't arouse the suspicions of the UnSub.

_Yes! I know..._

_Dear David,_ (he wrote) _I came here to Quantico to meet Aaron because I couldn't reach him on his phone. It seems he's not here, the place is empty. I need to see you about something_ (Reid paused – what? – Ahh yes.) _connected with his work. Please can we meet in the English Ale Shop, the little bar on the Fuller Road? I'll be there _(Reid checked his watch) _at six this evening. Haley Hotchner_

He read it through a couple of times, and clicked 'send'. He hoped Rossi would read it in time, and if he did, would follow it up.

He looked down at the notes he had written.

Sand; chained down; stripped; Bamboo... bamboo? Why use bamboo? Why not a knife?

Then he remembered something about Bamboo; something that fitted with everything he had seen; something that tore at his heart.

"_Bamboo is the fastest growing plant on this planet. It has been recorded growing at an amazing 47.6 inches in a 24 hour period. "_

Spencer suddenly realised what they meant when they said his death would not be easy. He knew what they were doing to Aaron!

_Oh my good god, Aaron... _


	5. The English Ale Shop

**A/N I really enjoyed writing this chapter. Good grief. I was told by Tellygirl that I should have been a Conquistador! LOL Reckon I missed my calling – that and I was born into the wrong century! Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please leave a little review for me!**

**PERSONAL TIME  
**Chapter 5  
The English Ale Shop

_**"To brewe beer x. quarters malte. lj. quarters wheet ij. quarters ootos/ xl. ll weight of hoppys./ To make lx barrelles of sengyll beer" arnold chron. (x-um 20), fol.xciv.r/b (r.i.r/b)"  
Translation:  
"To make 60 barrels of single beer, use 10 quarters of malt, 2 quarters of wheat, and 2 quarters of oats, with 40 pounds of hops." - Richard Arnold, "Customs of London", 1503**_

Spencer put his phone back together with shaking hands, and replaced the battery, but it wouldn't turn on. Aaron had an old phone from the bureau knocking around; Spencer went to the kitchen and searched the drawers, all the time, his hands shaking, he kept forgetting to breathe...

_How could I be so stupid! What is the point of having an IQ of 187 when I can't keep control..._

He found the phone in the third drawer. He removed the back and swapped the SIM, and hoped there was some battery left.

He pressed the on button, and the phone sprang to life. Spencer wanted to cry with relief. The battery was half down – enough for a few hours as long as he didn't use it to call out. He picked up the bits of his old phone and dropped them in Aaron's bin, and slipping the new one into his pocket, he went out of the house, locking the door and replacing the key.

He needed a car. He ran along the quiet street, and looked down the next drive way. Next to the gate there was an old Nissan parked next to a Beamer and a Mercedes. Reid went to the front door with his ID ready. A man of about fifty answered the door.

"Dr. Spencer Reid, FBI. I need to borrow your car."

The door started to close. Reid put his foot in the gap before it closed.

"Please, Sir. It is very important. A life may depend on it. The Nissan will be fine. I won't even be taking it out of Quantico."

The pressure on his foot increased. He pulled his gun.

"Sir, let me start again." He pointed the gun at the man who suddenly turned pale. "I need to commandeer the Nissan."

He pushed the door open, and the man reached into an ash tray on the hall stand and picked up a key. He held it out to Spencer.

"Thank you Sir." He said, taking the key and returning his gun to his belt. "You may have just saved a life."

He turned and ran back down the drive and opened the gates. Unlocking the car, he hoped it had enough fuel to get him to the other side of town. He drove the car through the gates and turned right towards Fuller Road.

-0-0-0-

Aaron's neighbour was on the phone. "Yes Sir, at gun point. ... Nissan Bluebird ...Reid, that's right, claimed to be a Fed. ...Thank you."

-0-0-0-

Reid saw the lights before he heard the siren. He slowed down and pulled in to let the car pass, but it pulled along side and matched his speed. The cop waved for him to stop. Reid for a split second thought about trying to outrun them, but it was only for the smallest of moments. He pulled up onto the grass verge, and the cop car stopped at an angle across the front of the Nissan.

He wound down his window.

The doors of the cop car opened, and the two men crouched behind them.

"Get out of the car with your hands where we can see them!"

_Crap_

Slowly Reid opened the car door and stepped out onto the grass. He held his hands forward, palms out.

"I'm Spencer Reid, FBI. I have my ID here." He moved his hand to retrieve his messenger bag from the Nissan.

"Don't move!"

Spencer stopped moving. The cop stepped out from behind the door, and his partner followed.

"Turn around and lean on the car."

The cop took his gun and phone and pulled his arms down and cuffed him.

"Please, I'm with the FBI. You need to let me go." Reid said, "The life of a fellow officer is in serious danger."

"And I'm the Queen of Sheba. Get in the car."

The cop pulled Reid over to the cop car, and pressed his head down pushing him into the car.

"Please, my ID is in my bag in the Nissan."

The cop sitting next to Reid in the back gestured to his partner. "Bring his bag when you lock the Nissan."

The other cop nodded and returned a few seconds later with Reid's messenger bag. He threw it on the seat started the car.

"Aren't you going to check my ID?" Reid asked.

"Just be quiet, you thieving little turd. We'll sort this little mess out down at the station I think."

"Please, you have no idea what you are doing!"

"Yes, I think we do. You are under arrest for armed robbery."

And Reid was Mirandized.

-0-0-0-

Rossi was puzzled. Why on earth would Haley choose this odd little bar to meet him? He could offer no explanation, but then he didn't know Haley, only from when he had met her years ago when he worked with Aaron before. All he could remember about her was that she was pretty in a pale brittle kind of way, and that she had badly hurt one of his closest friends.

He didn't like her very much.

He glanced at his watch as he drove along the Fuller Road. Five forty five. He saw the lights of the little bar ahead.

_Whatever happens here, at least I can get a decent English pint..._

He drove into the small car park. There were three other cars already there and he parked at the end of the row nearest the gate. As he got out of the car, he heard the squeal of tyres on the tarmac, and he looked up to see a dark saloon with tinted windows speeding along the road. As it approached, the passenger's window slid open, and he saw the flash at the same time that the bullets cut across his thighs and groin.

He didn't see the car drive away.

-0-0-0-

"So you really are FBI!" the desk sergeant said in surprise, holding out a tray to Spencer containing his mobile, ID and gun. Reid's bag was on the bench. He grabbed his belongings off the tray.

"Your incompetence may have cost the life of a fellow officer!" Reid shouted, so angry he was hardly able to speak. "Now I want an unmarked car. NOW!"

"There's one out front for you." The sergeant said handing Spencer a key. "But if you Feds kept us in the loop occasionally, this type of thing wouldn't happen. You are all so bloody high and mighty. You think you are better than us."

"We are on the same side, you useless bunch of morons!" Reid yelled, turning a few heads. He snatched the key and ran out of the station. He didn't have time for this.

He drove along the streets breaking all the driving rules, and a few others too. The dash clock said six ten. He hoped it was fast. The blue flashing lights were lighting up the sky, and Spencer had a horrible feeling in his gut as he drove closer to the bar. When he got there, he parked on the verge just past the entrance, and took in the scene, horrified at what he was seeing. There was crime scene tape across the entrance to the car park. The back of the ambulance was open and someone was being lifted into it. He couldn't see who it was, but he could see Rossi's car, with the door open, and he couldn't see Rossi. He got out of his car as the ambulance drove away.

"What happened here?"

The couple watching from the edge of the crime scene were clinging to each other.

"A drive by." The man said. "Can't understand. Why here?"

"They wanted to get that guy." The woman said. "I hope he's ok."

"He was shot in the legs. A cop I think."

Reid looked at Rossi's car – a line of bullet holes half way down the door, a void in the centre where he's been standing; blood spray on the car; a pool of blood on the ground.

Reid's phone rang.

Another MMS.

He went back to his car and sat down, afraid to open the message.

-0-0-0-

Lying in the dark, he felt the sand behind his back gradually become soaked in blood. He had tried to arch his back away from the ground, but exhaustion and extreme thirst had weakened him. He knew what they were doing. As the Bamboo grew, it pierced the skin on his back, and gradually grew through his body.

An old and very effective form of torture. It would kill him eventually, but depending on the rate of growth, it could be hours or even days.

"Please, please, just tell me why..."

But his voice was just a cry of pain. His throat was dry and swollen. The metal band felt tight. He had vomited, but being unable to turn his head, he had coughed and choked. He knew he was in danger of passing out, and all his concentration was focussed on remaining conscious...

The light went on, and he closed his eyes against the glare.

"Hey, Hotchner, how are you feeling?"

"Why?" Just a faint whisper.

"Someone has made a very big mistake." The masked man said, ignoring Aaron's question. The man had a syringe, and he stuck the needle in Aaron's groin, emptying the contents into him. "So this is the consequence."

Aaron stared at the man with wide eyes. A mistake? This torture was to control someone else?

His thinking stopped abruptly as the drug infiltrated his body.

"It won't cause you pain, Hotchner. Just magnify ten fold that which you can already feel."

For a few seconds, Aaron refused to give in to it. Then he arched his back and screamed as fire engulfed him.

-0-0-0-

This time, the words came first.

_Don't you think we are watching Haley? You really are stupid. _

Then the video. Dave pulling up outside the bar; the sudden sound of gunfire, and Dave being cut down in cold blood. The image stayed on him as blood formed in a pool around his hips.  
The next clip. Aaron still lying on the sand, now blood soaked. Someone injecting something into him. For a second or two, Aaron didn't move. Then as the drug started to work, he began to scream and fight. Reid watched horrified as the man he loved more than anything else began to cry in pain. It only stopped when Aaron's body convulsed.

_So, Doctor Spencer Reid, who will be next? Please, don't make us do this again. Check your e-mail._

A knock on the window. It was one of the cops at the scene.

"Are you alright Sir?"

Reid snapped the phone shut, and flashed his ID.

"Who was the guy who got shot?"

"He is a Fed. You know him? Agent David Rossi."

"Yes." Reid said, trying to keep his voice from shaking. "We work together. Is he ok? Where have they taken him?"

"He's taken some damage to his upper legs and groin. He took about four slugs." The cop rested his hand on Reid's shoulder. "He was in a bad way. They took him to the Potomac. I'd get there quick if I were you."

Reid blinked away a tear. He couldn't cry yet.

"Thanks."

He started up the car and drove away towards the hospital.

He felt lost and bewildered. He had walked straight into the trap and he had drawn Dave into it too. Now he was hurt, and Aaron was being tortured.

He stopped at the road side. He had been told to lead the team away from the UnSub. He would have to comply.

But he would find the sons of bitches. If he died doing it. He would find them.


	6. Threads

**PERSONAL TIME  
**Chapter 6  
Threads

_**One may survive distress but not dishonour – Scottish proverb**_

Aaron hadn't moved for a long time, apart from the intermittent rise and fall of his chest. The sand on which he was lying was dark and damp with blood, the skin of his back ripped to ribbons on the bamboo which was piercing his flesh. The metal rings to which he was chained had dug deep into muscle and flesh, and blood ran in a constant stream. Sweat glistened in the half light on the rare areas of undamaged skin, the deep puncture wound on his thigh was red rimmed and infected.

His eyes were closed and his eye lashes stuck together with dried tears, and the blood on his face was cracked and dry. Although the movement of his chest was minimal, the rasping sound of his breathing was loud and distressing. He was conscious, but unable to think past staying alive. The past had merged into an opaque mist, and the future didn't exist. He thought in bursts of terrible grief about Spencer. Was he suffering? Was he dying as he was? He tried to think of who was being controlled by his agony. He had wondered at first if it could be Spencer. But if they held him too... Were they trying to get information from him? But why ask Spencer, when they could ask him? How would this continue after his death? Or would this be over by then?

_Oh god somebody help me help me help me..._

The pain inducing drug he had been given was fast acting but the effect was not long lasting. The shock on his body was still in effect, and every few seconds, the remains of the drug touched his nerves and pain shot through his body like a terrible electric shock. The convulsion he had suffered had left him exhausted and in pain.

He could feel the bamboo growing into his body. Soon he would be pinned down, but for now, it was still possible to arch his back, and he realised that he was lifting his back off the sand as the plants grew. Very soon though the effort would become too much and he would collapse back down onto the lethal spears. The plants were slow growing. So they meant to keep him alive for a while yet. Whatever the purpose of this torture was, it was not going to be over quickly.

He had bitten his tongue; he spat pieces of it along with blood and bile onto the sand. Tears wet his face as the remnant of the drug attacked pain receptors in his brain.

_Why? Why? Why? Why?..._

He opened his eyes. Stars shone through the glass roof, the same stars that shone on his little boy. The sheer beauty of the stars shook him as if he was seeing them for the first time. He wondered if Jacky was looking at the stars now.

Suddenly nothing else mattered any more.

-0-0-0-

Spencer drove to the BAU. He had to pretend he didn't know about Dave, and wanted to be at the BAU when the news was broken.

_God what a mess..._

Somehow he had to mislead the team, but at the same time, he needed to find the UnSubs who were blackmailing him with Aaron's life. He needed to look at his e-mail.

On the drive back, he thought of what he was going to say to the others. He was just one man on the team. They might not listen to him. Somehow he had to make them listen.

He would tell them that he was wrong about them not being random snatches of the streets. And he would investigate the real connection alone.

Reid tried to look 'normal' as he went to his desk. Emily came over to him.

"We've just had some really bad news, Spencer."

"What is it?" he asked. "Another victim?"

"It's Dave." She said, tears in her eyes. "He's been shot in a drive by. He's pretty bad, Reid. He might not make it."

Spencer felt sick. This was down to him "When? Why isn't anyone with him?" Reid said.

Morgan came across and put his arm across Reid's shoulders. "We're two down. We can't spare anyone. He was shot outside a bar on the Fuller Road. We don't know why he was there. I'm having his note book couriered over. He might have written in there what he was doing, if it was connected to the case. Strauss wants us in the conference room in..." Morgan checked his watch. "Now, actually."

Spencer had always despised hypocrisy. And here he was being one of the worst hypocrites. He nodded weakly and followed the others into the conference room where Strauss was already waiting. Without waiting for them to sit down she began speaking.

"Now you are two down and this is a slow moving case, I will be leading the team," she said. "Until either Hotchner or Rossi return." Her mouth was an angry line. "So what is the latest information that you have?" She looked round at the five agents sitting in front of her. "Doctor Reid?"

Somehow, Reid had no qualms about lying to Strauss. "We were looking at the possibility that these killings are truly random, and the victims are chosen as, for instance, the first person wearing black shoes, or carrying a shopping bag. I was going to take a look at that possibility today."

"I'll re-check the surveillance tapes that we have. We don't have many, as this UnSub chose the places to snatch his victims with care, and the tapes we do have were just a lucky chance."

"I'd like to take another look at the crime scenes." Morgan said. "It could be more to do with where the victims were taken, rather than who they were."

"I'll help you with that." Emily said.

Jareau's phone rang. She excused herself and answered it. The rest of the team and Strauss watched her face. It wasn't good news. She snapped her phone closed.

"We have another victim." She said grimly.

-0-0-0-

The bright light pierced the darkness and stabbed into Aaron's eyes like knives. He cried out as he jumped in surprise at the sudden white starkness. The woman stepped up to him and began filming. He looked up at her with huge dark eyes. A harsh rasping sound escaped his lips. She turned off record and stared at him.

He tried again to speak, but his mouth was completely dry and he could only make unintelligible sounds. He licked his lips and stared back up at her.

_Please, I need some water. Please..._

Aaron closed his eyes and turned away. The effort to communicate had used all his energy. His arms lay straight out, unmoving. His chest hardly moved as his breaths came erratically and harshly, broken ribs grinding against each other and agonising pain being the price he was paying for each drop of oxygen. His back muscles were weakening. Soon he would have to lie flat.

Suddenly he felt moisture on his dry cracked lips. He frantically sucked at the sponge that was being held for him. The feel of water on his lips and running into his mouth was wonderful, he wanted to hold it there, but after a few seconds, it was taken away. He raised his forearms from the sand and cried out to the woman, but as before, his words had no meaning to her, and through his tightly closed eye lids, he saw the light disappear, and he heard the door close.

Aaron started to cry. He didn't try to stop the tears, or quell the ragged cries of despair. As the sobs racked his body, he didn't care if they heard. They had broken his will, he had no dignity or self respect left. He was going to die slowly and painfully here chained down and under torture. The tears dampened his hair and washed lines across his face, and from the other side of the room, the woman filmed his distress with a smile.

-0-0-0-

Reid waited until the team were all busy with their assignments, and he quickly booted up his lap top. Strauss and Emily had left for the new crime scene. Morgan was checking out the previous ones. Garcia and Jareau were checking security footage again. Reid was ostensibly going through the inventory of what the victims were wearing. But now he wanted to look at his e-mails.

Then he planned to see if the true connection worked on this new victim.

He had sixteen e-mails. Two were from unknown sources. Ignoring the usual warnings, he opened the older message first.

The first part was a clip of Dave being lifted into the ambulance. Reid suddenly realised that he had been there at the same time as the UnSub. As the ambulance drove away he saw the image of himself getting out of the car.

_We hope you are not going to be that stupid again. We don't know how long Hotchner is going to survive. You are wasting time._

He had tears in his eyes as he opened the newer e-mail.

Aaron was lying very still in the dark. Reid touched the screen, desperately trying to reach out to him.

'I am so sorry, Aaron. Please hold on...'

_The latest shot, Doctor Spencer Reid. Enjoy this one. We did!_

Aaron was crying. Spencer's heart was breaking as he watched tears fall and heard Aaron's helpless sobs of anguish. He tore his eyes from Aaron and took in as much as he could of the room where he was being held. There had to be some clues; something to connect the place with the drug that was at the centre of the murders.

There was very little to see other than what he was meant to be looking at. Sand on the ground, metal restraints, further away, the ground appeared to be concrete. There was nothing else, nothing at all.

The clip ended. There were no more instructions.

Spencer just wanted to sleep and make this all go away. As he was sitting here, someone he loved was being tortured, another was fighting for his life in hospital. He watched the e-mail disappear from his inbox. He picked up his phone and called the hospital.

-0-0-0-

"This is particularly tragic." The cop said. "Yesterday his daughter died of a heroin overdose."

"Where is the wife?" Strauss asked, looking everywhere except at the body at her feet. Emily was kneeling by the dead man. There was something about this wound pattern. She looked up at the CSI who was working nearby.

"Have you retrieved any bullets?" she asked.

"There were three through and throughs." He said, handing her an evidence bag, "Thirty twos."

"Thirty twos..." she said to herself. "I wonder..."

Handing back the little bag, she opened her phone and called the lab. "Do you have ballistics on the shooting of Agent Rossi yet?"

"We do. And here is something interesting. The ballistics match with the murders you are currently investigating."

"Thank you." Emily said, her mind racing. This could be the break they had waited for. The UnSub had made the inevitable mistake.

She looked over at Strauss. She was talking to the wife of the victim, mother of the dead heroin user. Emily actually felt a little sorry for Strauss, totally out of her depth, dealing with people rather than paperwork. Emily debated whether or not to tell her what she had just discovered, and decided not to. She would discuss it with Reid and Morgan first.

Rossi's note book could hold the key to this. She had that wonderful feeling she got when she felt a new thread connected to the case fall into her hand. Enough threads, and the case could be drawn together.

Strauss was coming over. The wife was being led away by relatives.

"Do you have everything you need from here, Prentiss?" she asked.

Emily nodded and stood up. "Yes I think I have." She said.

She wanted to get back as soon as possible. The chase was on.


	7. Disclosure

**PERSONAL TIME  
**Chapter 7  
Disclosure

_**Solomon Ibn Gabirol ben Judah wrote, "If you want to keep something concealed from your enemy, don't disclose it to your friend"**_

  
Spencer was collating the information about different aspects of the victimology, setting up a false lead for the team. He had a nasty twisting feeling in his stomach. This was likely to be the last case he ever worked on. The team would understand, but he knew there was no love lost between Aaron and Strauss. He thought, while he made the database, how desolate he would be without Aaron in his life. Even if Aaron survived, he doubted he would be able to work with him again.

He felt tears spring up again when Emily rushed out of the lift followed by a more sedate Strauss. Strauss went to her office; Emily quickly came down the steps to Reid.

"Hey, Reid! Where's Morgan?" she said, clearly out of breath. "I need to get everyone together now. I think I have something!"

Reid's twisted gut twisted a little more.

_Oh no...if she's found the right track..._

He came to a quick, he hoped not fatal, decision.

"They are all at scenes." He said, standing up on shaky legs. "I want to show you something too."

Reid took her by the arm and quickly led her back up the steps to the walk way.

"Where are we going?" she asked in confusion. "What do you want to show me?"

Reid put his finger to her lips and shook his head. Her confusion intensified, but she went along with it.

She had always viewed Reid as a little weird. But he was usually right.

As they passed the door to the ladies toilet, he suddenly turned and pushed her in, and followed her. She ran forward a few steps and turned to him.

"What the hell are you?..."

"Shh. Wait a minute." Reid said. He checked the stalls and found them to be empty. Emily stood and watched him in bewilderment, but she didn't move until Reid went to the door and locked it.

"Hey! What are you doing!" she said. She backed away from him.

Reid put up his hands, palms out.

"It's ok, Emily. I've not 'lost it'. I just think this is probably the only place in the building where I can't be seen or heard"

Emily relaxed a little. "Explain, Reid. What are you talking about?"

Spencer sighed and sunk to the floor to ease his trembling legs. He looked up at her.

"I'm being blackmailed, Emily, and the price I am having to pay is Hotch's life."

The mystified expression altered to one of alarm. She sat on the floor opposite him.

"What's happened, Spencer? Tell me." she said, leaning towards him. "And why are we in here?"

"We are in here, because I was going to tell Dave, and they found out. He was shot going to meet me." He looked into her eyes, trying to read the unreadable. "I'm afraid I could be putting you in danger by telling you."

"Oh my god, Spencer. Tell me everything. You must tell me."

Spencer pushed a lock of sweaty hair off his forehead and told her. As the story came out, he felt the terrible load he was carrying lighten. Tears came into his eyes as he recollected the dreadful state that Aaron was in, and how all he could do was go along with the kidnappers' demands, and try to solve the case himself. When he had finished, he lowered his head and put both hands onto his face. He didn't try to stop the tears, and they pushed between his shaking fingers and fell onto his lap. Emily reached over and pulled his hands away. She held onto them, squeezing gently.

"Spencer, we have to tell Morgan. We need him on this. We can't do this by ourselves."

"We?"

"Spencer, Hotch is one of ours, not just yours. We all love him. We will work together to save him."

Emily had special feelings for Hotch. She had hoped that one day, he and she would become lovers. The thought of someone deliberately hurting him made her feel sick. How Reid had coped with this alone was more than Emily could understand. She stood up, still holding his hands.

"Come on, wash your face, and we'll call Morgan back. He has to know about this."

Reid allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. "And Erin Strauss?"

"She doesn't need to know. She doesn't fully understand how we work." Emily answered. "She won't suspect."

Reid splashed water onto his face. "Where do we tell Morgan? I'm sure we are being watched."

"Back in here. I'll arrange it, to take the emphasis off you." She said. "I'll let you know by e-mail when we are going to meet."

"My e-mail is compromised."

"It's ok, I'll be careful." She unlocked the door and looked out. "It's all clear, Spence."

He followed her out into the corridor and they made their way back to the bullpen separately. As he sat down at his desk, Morgan came in, and Reid's mobile rang.

-0-0-0-

Aaron had been lying in the sand for two days. He had stopped being afraid. He had resigned himself to the inevitable. He looked up at the woman filming him. There was so much he wanted to ask her, but his mouth didn't work any more. He needed some water, but all that would do was prolong his death. He just stared at her with wide eyes, dry and painful. He had had to lower himself a little, the muscles in his back and thighs screamed as me moved, and he felt the bamboo spikes sink slowly into his flesh. He tried to think what there was there that was being damaged, but to think of anything beyond the here and now was impossible in his condition. His leg throbbed hotly as the infection spread; his jaw and cheek hurt where the beating of two days ago had broken bones; his skinned hand was numb and drawing breath was a conscious action bringing excruciating pain and a cry of agony along with it. He was being used as blackmail; he had worked that much out. But who? He was thinking Spencer being tortured was a lie. There had been no further mention of Reid, it was just a new way to hurt him. But he couldn't be sure; he wasn't thinking straight.

Suddenly the lights went on again, the glare hurting his eyes. The woman stepped back a little, and a masked man came into his line of sight. He held a hose and pointed it in Aaron's direction. Suddenly, he was blasted with ice cold water. Aaron screamed as the pressure of the water pushed his body across the sand, tearing his skin and tightening the metal bands that held him. The torture lasted only a few seconds, but when the water stopped, it left him cold and shivering and gasping for breath.

The woman was still filming.

-0-0-0-

Reid checked his phone. Another MMS. He decided not to open it yet. He wanted to wait until he could show Emily and Morgan. So he opened another message he had been sent before, and hoped that whoever and however they were watching him would think he was looking at the latest one of theirs. He closed the phone and rested his head on the desk for a moment.

He was so relieved that Emily knew, and hopefully, soon Morgan would too. He glanced across at Emily. She was writing some notes while looking at her screen. Then he watched as she got up and went over to Morgan who was finally alone and didn't have Strauss looking over his shoulder.

She put a sheet of paper on Morgan's desk in front of him. He was obviously not in a very good mood, and he pushed the paper out of the way, and shot Emily an annoyed look.

"Just look at them." She said, her finger on the page. He sighed and drew the paper towards him.

"This had better be good or..." His words drifted into silence as he read what she had written. He looked at his watch. "Ten minutes."

She nodded, picked up the paper and returned to her desk, putting the sheet of paper in the shredder as she passed. She opened her e-mail and typed Reid a short note.

_I have an appointment in ten minutes. I will have to leave then._

She pressed 'send' and hoped it was obscure as she thought. She watched Reid out of the corner of her eye, but he didn't react. He picked up his phone and called the Potomac.

-0-0-0-

A phone rang at the nurses' station. "Intensive Care, Staff nurse Walsh."

Reid asked her about Dave, going through the usual questions about who he was, and if he was related. He lied and said he was Dave's nephew.

"Just one moment, I'll get his notes."

Reid gripped the phone anxiously. He saw Morgan get up and leave the bull pen, looking at his watch as if he was late for something...

"Mr Rossi, wasn't it? Now he is stable at the moment. It was touch and go when he was brought in. The surgeon has removed the bullets, and repaired the damage as best he could. We won't know how successful he has been until Mr Rossi regains consciousness."

"He's still in a coma?" Reid said, fear and worry welling up.

"Yes, but that's not unusual in cases such as this. His heart rate is good and he's breathing by himself." she said, a kind tone to her voice.

"Please can you let me know if there's any change?" Reid said, and left her his mobile number. As he replaced the handset, Emily left the bull pen. It was almost time.

He got up and went to the lift. He travelled down one floor, got off the lift and went back up the emergency stairs. They opened out beyond the rest rooms. He didn't want to be seen following Emily; if indeed they were able to see him. He couldn't see how, but he wasn't going to take chances with the lives of three of his friends.

The ladies room door was open slightly, and he ducked inside as he drew parallel with it. Morgan and Emily were waiting for him. He turned and locked the door.

"Emily has given me a rundown on what has happened." Morgan said. It sounded as if he didn't know whether to be angry with Reid for not telling him sooner, or proud of him for his courage at taking it on by himself. "How could you keep this to yourself?"

Reid turned to Emily. "Did you tell him about Dave?"

Emily shook her head.

"What about Dave? Did he know?"

I was going to tell him, but the UnSub shot him on the way to meet me."

Morgan had Dave's note book. "It says here he was going to meet Haley Hotchner."

"Reid nodded. "That's what he thought. My e-mail is compromised. I couldn't say it was me." Reid said. "I'm not supposed to tell anyone, or they are going to kill Hotch."

Reid was controlling the sobs, but his voice was broken, and he couldn't stop the tears. "I've just had a new MMS." He said, opening his phone. "I have not seen it yet. They self delete after I watch them, and I wanted you to see it."

Morgan and Emily stood behind him and looked at the little screen. "We'll only have one chance."

He pressed play.

He heard Emily and Morgan gasp in horror at what they saw. Aaron had tilted his head back, and his face was covered in blood, dried blood, and new fresh scarlet blood. He had his eyes closed, his lips apart, and an expression of suffering and pure agony. His back was arched still, and his leg was swollen and infected. They saw the blood stained sand that he was lying on, and the metal rings cutting deep into his flesh. Then suddenly from off screen, a man turned a hose onto him. They heard the screams and cries as he writhed under the assault. The image faded, and the text appeared.

_I understand that Agent David Rossi survived. Just know that that wasn't intentional. Sorry about the water. We have to keep him clean, now don't we. Don't forget your instructions. If we have to shoot anyone else, tough guy Agent Derek Morgan, or the lovely Agent Emily Prentiss, we won't make the same mistake we made with your Italian colleague. Stand by for further instruction._

The message ended, and the MMS disappeared from the list.

"Oh my good god." Emily had her hand clasped across her mouth, tears in her eyes. "We have to find him."

Morgan didn't say anything. He stood still in shock. Reid felt himself shaking, and he slid down the wall and sat on the floor again. Emily sat beside him. Morgan started to pace.

"So tell me everything from the start." Morgan said. "We will get these sons of bitches, and I'll kill them."

Morgan sat down opposite Spencer and Emily, and Spencer told him all of it


	8. A Treat

**A/N I have done something in this chapter that I have never done before. I have used the F word. I don't want to offend anyone, but it really was the only word that fit. I hope it's ok.  
Please review – just a little word, to let me know how I'm doing. Thank you Darlings. Aggie xx**

**PERSONAL TIME  
**Chapter 8  
A Treat

_**Thomas Paine wrote, " I love the man that can smile in trouble, that can gather strength from distress, and grow brave by reflection"**_

"So how are the cases connected?" Morgan asked. "You don't think it is random?"

"I noticed that the first one to be killed was an ex addict. Her room-mate had died a few days before of an overdose."

"The latest one too – the father was shot, the daughter OD'ed" Emily said, leaning forwards in her eagerness to listen.

"I noticed that all the victims had a close friend or family member die of an overdose of heroin in the week prior to the murder."

"In every case? How didn't we see that?" Morgan was pacing again.

"I think it was because in some cases, the closeness of the two victims was a secret. The second murder victim was having an affair with the prostitute who OD'ed." Reid said. "I remembered coming across it when I interviewed the victim's wife."

"Ok, so why kill the junkie's friend?" Emily said, trying to work it out, and failing.

"I think the heroin deaths were due to contaminated drug." He answered. "Whatever the drug was cut with, had contamination of for example, potassium cyanide."

"So the OD victims were murdered as well?" Morgan stopped pacing and stared at Spencer in amazement.

"No-one bothered to check." Reid said. "There are so many heroin overdoses, it's just routine now. I think that the friends who died were trying to get them into rehab. That could be a link. I have not had a chance to check out the rehab clinics."

"We could make a start with victim number one." Emily said. "She had recently been in rehab, and was clean. Powell her name was. Ffion Powell."

"They might all be connected with the same clinic." Morgan said. "Ok, let's have assignments." He glanced at Reid, silently confirming that it was ok to take charge. Reid nodded slightly.

_It's ok. Glad to have the pressure off..._

"Emily and Reid, if you want to chat to the families of the shot victims, check out the rehab theory. I'll see what I can come up with on the OD victims."

"Sounds good." Emily said.

"We'll meet at my place at ten this evening. Bring a bottle or food, make out we're having a party."

Emily and Reid agreed. Emily checked that the corridor was empty, and they left with their new assignments.

-0-0-0-

The heating had been turned off. And a fan had been turned on, blowing colds air. Aaron shivered as the icy water froze on him and on the sand. He moved his leg and felt the thin ice layer on the water crack. Most of the water had drained away into the sand, but what little remained was on his legs and chest. His mouth was still dry. The thirst was agony, affecting every part of him now. He pondered on dying of thirst before he was impaled on the bamboo.

His blood was freezing on the surface of the sand. His jaw shivered uncontrollably, grinding bones together.Eevery few moments, his whole body shook, drawing more blood from his torn back. His leg sent waves of pain into his abdomen, indicating yet another way that he could die.

The lights suddenly went on again. Aaron saw the light through his eyelids. His eyes hurt too much to open them.

"Look at me!" The woman's voice.

"Can't...open..." It didn't sound like words. He felt fingers on his eyes, pulling them open. The pain was unbelievable. He lifted his hands, desperately trying to reach his face. It felt like grit scraping his eyes, but he was too dehydrated to form tears. His eyes rolled in their sockets.

"Look at me or I will remove your eyes."

_Oh my god..._

Aaron felt something cold and sharp against his lower eye lid. He forced his eyes to look upwards. Needles stuck in his eyes, he had never felt such excruciating pain. He couldn't focus, but he could see the woman held a scalpel in her hand.

Aaron felt his eyes tremble and try to close. The woman noticed that the bright defiant look had gone. Hotchner's eyes were dull, lifeless.

She smiled at him and stroked his matted bloody hair, and pulled the mask over her face.

"Ok, Phil, I'm ready!"

Aaron heard a click as the camera began to film, and she began.

-0-0-0-

"Yes, I know these are old cases, MacMillan, but this is important." Morgan said, getting annoyed. "Do you think I'd ask you to do this otherwise?" He was raising his voice and getting disapproving looks from other people in the room.

"Yes, actually. Let's talk in my office." MacMillan said through gritted teeth.

"No. Let's not." Morgan replied, trying to keep from laying this guy out. "An agent's life is on the line here. "

MacMillan sighed. "I'll have them done by this time tomorrow." He said crossly.

"I'll pick up the results at close of play. Tonight. That gives you..." Morgan glanced at the clock on the wall. "Four hours. Thank you."

Without waiting for a reply, Morgan left the lab. Why was it like this? He got so mad at the lack of co-operation between departments. He loathed office politics. He could never do Hotch's job...

His mind flashed back to the clip he had seen on Reid's phone.

_Hotch ...Would he ever be able to do his job again? Would they get to him in time? ...No question. They had to._

He went back to his desk in the bull pen and retrieved the geographical data on both sets of victims, and got a map out of his drawer. Reid was the expert on this, but he knew the theory. He would make a start.

These victims were specific, so it was unlikely that a geographic profile would reveal much. It was the victim, not the location that was relevant here. Still, the UnSub had to choose where he was going to strike, so there could be something in it. He began marking the page, different colour for the OD and shooting victims, numbered in pairs.

"What are you doing?" He jumped as Strauss spoke to him.

"Oh! Erm... Geographic profile."

"What do the two colours represent?"

Dammit!

He hadn't got a lie ready so he had to tell the truth.

"There's a possibility that the spate of heroin deaths could be related to the shootings." he answered. "It's just a theory I'm working on. If there's anything in it, I'll present it to the group."

He hoped that that was vague enough. He glanced up at her.

"It's a pity that Hotchner had to choose this time for his leave." She said. "I will need to speak to him on his return."

_Why are you telling me?_

"Yes ma'am." Was all he said, and he turned back to his map.

-0-0-0-

They sat in the SUV after visiting the family of the third victim. They got very little from the second. Colly Davis's wife didn't know about the affair before her husband's death, and so couldn't tell them anything. The family of the first victim, Ffion Powell, hadn't seen her for over two years, but they knew which clinic she had been in, The Virginia Trust Clinic. She was probably trying to get her friend, who it turned out was her room-mate, to go to the same one. But the third was full of information.

The Brother of the third gunshot victim, Craig Malone, told Emily and Spencer that his brother's girlfriend was due to go into rehab the day before she died. He knew this because Craig himself was going to pay for it as a wedding gift.

"The Virginia Trust Clinic. Glen signed the papers, it was all set." Craig's eyes were red and puffy. He had been crying a lot lately.

Reid put out his hand. "We are so sorry for your loss, Mr Malone. And thank you for your help."

Back in the car, Emily said, "So where to now? The clinic?"

Reid nodded and started the car. "We can see if we can take a look at their books. We might have to bluff them about a warrant."

"The bluff usually works." Emily said. "It's worth a try, and it will save time."

"Yeah. And maybe Hotch's life."

He pulled away from the kerb and headed out of town.

-0-0-0-

The woman sat astride her prisoner, and began to touch him.

"I have been wanting to do this now for two days, but I had to convince the men that it would hurt you." She whispered in his ear. "It will be interesting to see just how damaged a man needs to be before he doesn't respond."

Aaron tried to turn his head away from her exploring hands. He was too weak to move, and as her weight pressed down on his hips, his arched back collapsed, and the spikes dug deep into him. He didn't scream. The sounds he made were faint and heart rending. He knew he was being filmed. He didn't want whoever was watching this to think that he was broken. He didn't want these people to win.

The woman leaned down and kissed him softly. She kissed his closed eye lids, and moved down to his mouth. She kissed him again, gently at first, then deep and hard. He tried to close his lips, but he couldn't hold out against her. He felt sick.

"Come on, you gorgeous man, respond to me." She said, and she slipped her hands under him, behind his back and lifted him up from the sand. As the bamboo pulled from his flesh, and gouts of blood dropped from the wounds, he cried out softly and prayed that his body wouldn't respond to her.

As she moved her lips from his face to his neck, he tried to speak, tried to beg her not to do this, but if she understood his words, she didn't listen. She bit his neck and shoulder, and held him tight against her...

_...no no no no..._

Weakly he tried to push her away, but it was a waste of what little energy he still had. His eyes were closed, he tried to think of something else, he tried to bring together what he knew about this case, but as her hands ran up and down his torn back, stroking his hip bones, running her fingers along the contours of the muscles in his back, he tipped his head back and sobbed as his body responded to her.

_...oh god no no no please no..._

-0-0-0-

A few minutes into the drive, Reid's phone vibrated. He stopped the car, and opened the phone.

"Really must open it now." He said, showing Emily the MMS alert. "I don't know how long I can leave it without arousing suspicion.

Emily nodded. "Just a moment, I have an idea. Did you say we would have time to watch it twice?"

"Sometimes, yes."

"Well, if we get a second chance this time, I'll film it with my phone." She said. "The quality won't be much, but at least we'll have a record of it."

She got her phone ready, and Reid hit play.

Hotch lay in the dark, shivering. He was lying in a frozen pool of blood. There was ice forming on his skin. He was shivering and trembling and crying softly. For a moment, there was no picture, as the lights in the room were turned on. Then a woman came into view, holding a blade, which she rested on Aaron's eye lid.

Emily reached for Spencer's hand. She didn't know if she could watch this. Spencer held it tight.

The woman forced Aaron's eyes open. Then to their horror, she sat astride him and started to touch him. Then she raped him.

Emily covered her eyes. She couldn't bare it. She felt tears on her hands.

"Oh my god!" she whispered. "Why are they doing this to him?"

Reid just squeezed her hand. He knew that she loved him. He knew this must be agony for her.

It was for Reid...

The camera focused on Aaron's face. Distress and grief was his expression. The fear they saw earlier had gone. Eyes closed, lips open, his head tilted back...

Emily turned away.

Then the image disappeared. New words came onto the screen.

_See the kind of man you are defending? I am amazed you even bother. But then, it's your fantasy, isn't it, Doctor Spencer Reid. That was a little treat for your Lover. Probably his last ever fuck. I hope he enjoyed it.  
You are doing well, Doctor Spencer Reid, hence the little treat. Keep this up and we might kill him quickly!  
Stand by._

Reid closed the phone, and he turned to Emily. She was crying, and he put his arms around her and held her.

"You are in love with him too, aren't you?" he said, his hand on the back of her head. He felt her nod.

"It's going to be ok, Emily." he said, looking past her and into the forest that surrounded the car. "We will get him back."

_We have to... we have to..._


	9. Near the End

**PERSONAL TIME  
**Chapter 9  
Near the End

_**Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage.**__** - **__**Lao Tzu **_

Emily sat in the car when Reid went into the clinic. Her face was red and puffy from crying, and she was still shaking. When her sobbing abated, she remembered what the UnSubs had dome to Aaron, and the tears flowed again. She and Reid had sat in the SUV for a long time, just holding each other after the video, both taking comfort from the other, sharing the grief.

She watched the door, waiting for Reid to come out. It was a safe assignment. All he needed to do was bluff his way into the registration book.

He seemed to be taking too long. She tidied herself up, and got out of the car.

That was when she heard the gunshot.

-0-0-0-

Morgan was wound up like a spring. It was time to go and get the test results off MacMillan in the lab. He almost wanted him not to have done them, giving him an excuse to throw him through the wall.

MacMillan was alone in the lab when Morgan entered. He looked up and scowled.

"Another twenty minutes." He said. "Here's what I have so far."

Morgan flicked through the papers, a sheet for each victim. "And there can be no mistake?"

"Are you quest...?"

Morgan turned his back and went and sat on a lab stool.

"This is very urgent, MacMillan." He said, trying to calm the air. "I'll wait here for the rest of the results."

He spread out the sheets of paper on the table and looked at the results more carefully. All the victims had been poisoned with potassium cyanide. This wasn't an unintentional contamination, this was deliberate. These people had been murdered, and the fact that they were all trying to come off the drugs made it so much more tragic.

The rehab clinic seemed to be the common denominator. He hoped that Reid and Emily could find out which one they were planning on going to.

He was glad that Emily and Spencer were working together, watching each other's backs.

MacMillan gave him another sheet of paper. "The last one." He said.

"Thank you, MacMillan. You might have saved a life here."

"Whose?"

"I can't say at the moment. I'll let you know as soon as we get him back..." He pushed the papers together."...alive."

-0-0-0-

Emily ran to the door and pushed it open. Reid was standing in the foyer holding his gun. A man was sitting against the opposite wall, clutching a wound in his leg. There was a handgun on the floor between them.

"Get up!" Reid said.

"How can I?" the wounded man said, his voice high and angry. "You shot my leg you bastard!"

Emily slipped on gloves as she went between them and picked up the gun. "Yours?" she said, holding it up to the injured man. He said nothing.

She went and stood by Reid. "Did you get a look at the registration book?"

Reid nodded. "They were all booked in to come here." he said. "The relevant pages are being photocopied."

An officious looking woman came through a door behind the counter. She put the book back in a drawer and locked it, and handed the copies to Reid

"I'll call an ambulance for Marshall."

"No." Reid said. "We'll take care of that." He smiled at the woman. "You have been very helpful. Thank you."

Emily wrapped the glove she was wearing back around the gun and slipped it into her picket, and crossed the foyer to the man called Marshall.

"Get up." She said, leaving no room for compromise. "Now!"

"But my leg..."

"Use the other one." She growled. She went to un-holster her own gun. "Do you need some help?"

Marshall shot Emily a look, and struggled to his feet. The bullet had caught the edge of his thigh. There was some blood, but not much. Emily guessed it would need a few stitches, but that was all. Reid stepped forward and cuffed and Mirandized him, and they pushed him towards the door.

"Sorry about the carpet." Reid said to the receptionist.

"That's ok. Just get him out of my sight."

Emily sat in the back of the car with Marshall; Reid drove back to the BAU. Marshall made the most of his right to silence, and sat staring out of the window. Emily was glad when they arrived back; this guy gave her the creeps.

It was getting late when they got back. They put him in a cell, and called a doctor to stitch up his leg. When the police doctor had done with him, and he was ready, Emily and Reid went to question him. They met the doc on the way up.

"Nothing serious." He said. "Half a dozen stitches. He'll be fine."

Reid thanked him and Emily called Morgan. She caught him just as he was leaving the building.

"He pulled a gun on him?"

"Yes but Reid shot him in the leg. We've got him here. Wondered if you wanted to be in on the interview?"

"I'll be right up."

Reid left them and went to his desk. The less time he spent with them, the better. They would fill him in later anyway. He put his phone on the desk and booted up the lap top. There were no new messages. He was glad in one way, but seeing a video confirmed that Aaron was still alive. It seemed a long time now since he had heard from the UnSubs, and he was getting scared for Aaron. He was anxious too that the arrest of Marshall was going to upset them. He didn't know for sure that Marshall was involved, but it seemed likely.

He went to see Garcia.

"Could you do a search for me?" he asked.

Garcia turned to him. "Sure, Sweetie." She said with a smile. "Who's the baddy today?"

"Con Marshall." Reid smiled back. "I'd like to know if he has form, and his known associates."

"No sooner said than done, Hun!" Her fingers worked her keyboard as if it was a musical instrument producing wonderful music at her touch. Within seconds, she had the information he required.

"There you go!" she said, handing him a list. "Anything else?"

"There might be in a minute." Reid said. "Don't go away!"

She grinned and got back to her task.

_Ahh he's so dead cute! I really should ask him out. If I wait for him to ask me, I'll wait forever..._

Reid went back to his desk with his new list. He felt that 'about to break the case' fluttering in his stomach. It was a good feeling.

_We're getting close, Aaron. Hold on just a little longer..._

-0-0-0-

When she had finished with him, she just got up and left him. She didn't say anything to him. She used him like a disposable toy, and walked away.

Aaron was devastated. She had been wearing a mask, so it had probably been filmed. He wanted to curl up and cry in a corner, he hated himself and overflowed with self loathing. He couldn't cry. His throat was too dry and he had no tears, but he tilted his head back and the sound he made was brittle and cracked.

Now he wanted to die. How could he face his friends when they'd seen that? Emily would despise him; she would never want him. How would Spencer react? How could he ever lead the team after that?

He was cold again, and his jaw started to shiver. He had lost more blood when he was raped, when she had lifted him up off the shoots, and dropped him back down again when she had finished with him. He couldn't see his leg, but it was burning, and although the room was icy cold, his skin felt hot as the infection took hold. He had no resistance, and he expected to be dead very soon. He didn't think he would last a day now, as the heat of the infection touched the bitter cold in the room, and the fan blew freezing air onto him, ruffling his dark hair and forming bloody ice crystals on the tips.

He wanted to send a message to the team, say he was sorry for his weakness, and for letting them down. Next time they filmed he would try to speak. It didn't matter if it hurt. He wanted to tell them.

He lay still, saving his pathetic store of energy for the next filming session.

-0-0-0-

Morgan put on some music and waited for Emily and Reid to arrive. He had been in to the Potomac, on the way home, to visit Dave. He was in a bad way, but out of immediate danger. Although breathing by himself he looked as if he was in a deep coma. But the doctor told Morgan that he was quite close to the surface, and in all likelihood was aware of what was going on around him. He responded to Morgan when he held his hand.

He told Dave that the case was moving forward, and not to worry, but he didn't tell him about what was happening to Aaron. Morgan came away feeling encouraged.

Emily arrived with some party food and a six pack, five minutes after, Reid arrived with a bottle of wine. They sat on Derek's sofa and picked at the food Emily had brought. None of them wanted to eat. Morgan was sickened when Reid told him about the latest MMS.

"They said it was something nice." Emily said. Her voice was cracking. Morgan sat close to her.

"We'll get him back, Ems. And we'll kill those sons of bitches." Morgan said.

"What did you get out of Marshall?" Reid asked.

"Not a huge amount." Emily said, in control again. "He's into pushing though. His brother is a supplier."

"Supplier?" Reid frowned. "So why is he working at a rehab clinic?"

"We couldn't find out. He suddenly remembered his right to silence, and clamed up. We can try again tomorrow."

"All of those heroin death victims were down for the Virginia Trust Clinic." Reid said. "It was when I was asking for copies of the pages, that Marshall pulled the gun." He put the copies on the table.

"And all the heroin had been cut with potassium cyanide." Morgan said, adding his notes to the pile.

"You got the results already?" Reid said in surprise. "How did you get MacMillan to work that quickly?"

"Non verbal threats." Morgan said, allowing himself a flicker of a smile at the memory. "And I have some known assoc's for Marshall." He said. "One of them is especially interesting."

He put the list on the table with all the other evidence. He gave Emily's hand a squeeze. "You ok Ems?"

She nodded tiredly. She couldn't imagine life without having Aaron Hotchner around. Even if that was all it ever amounted to, she'd take that over nothing. She just needed to see him. She looked across at Spencer. It was strange; she had discovered a different man in him to the one she thought she knew. He had kept himself so well hidden, but the emotion of the situation had opened him up to her, and she liked what she saw. She had an affinity she didn't think was possible, both being in love with the same man. She held out her hand and he took it. As their fingers touched, Reid's phone rang.

They all three froze, anxiety etched on their tired faces. Reid didn't speak; he just pressed 'play' and waited.

The room was dark where Aaron was chained down. There was moonlight shining on his hair, picking out frozen blood droplets like black faceted jewels. The blood pool in which he was lying reflected the night sky through the glass roof, and the ice on his skin glistened. He turned his battered face towards the camera, and it looked as if he was trying to speak, although he was making no sound. Someone approached him.  
"Time to shut up, Hotchner." The man stood astride him, and lifted his head by his fringe, and punched him in the mouth. Aaron's head rocked, and he was allowed to fall back He didn't move again. They had a full minute of watching him lay still and silent.

Emily brushed away the tear that ran down her cheek. She was stronger than this. She got her phone out ready to cope the clip if they had the chance.

_He knows he shouldn't speak. Doctor Spencer Reid, I am getting suspicious. Why have you arrested Con Marshall? You will release him, or Agent Aaron Hotchner will know all about it!  
You may watch that again if you wish.  
Stand by._

Silently, Emily held her phone close to Reid's, and when the clip played again, she copied it.

Emily was the first one to speak.

"Ok, Morgan, let's put this onto your computer. We might be able to get something."

Morgan booted up his desk top. The three stood silently watching as the file was moved across. The only sound was the incongruous party music. Each was lost in his own thoughts, all different, but all the same.

They had to hurry...


	10. Visions, Films and Pictures

**PERSONAL TIME  
**Chapter 10  
Visions, Films and Pictures

_**Director Frank Capra said, "There are no rules in filmmaking. Only sins! And the Cardinal sin is dullness."**_

'_I am sorry.'_

'_Why? What for?'_

'_I could never stop him hurting you. I was never strong enough. I am sorry.'_

'_You protected your brother.'_

'_But I couldn't protect you.'_

'_You were a child. It wasn't your place. You protected Sean.'_

'_I am sorry. I was glad when he died. But you loved him.'_

'_He never deserved love. But you do. I love you.'_

'_It's almost over now.'_

'_Keep strong now Aaron. You are worth so much more than he ever was...'_

'_Don't leave me...no! Don't go!"_

The image turned into mist and blew away in the cold air. Alone again in the darkness that surrounded him and devoured him, Aaron's pain returned like a tsunami of agony. He tried to reach out his arms to her, a moan of anguish trembled in his throat, he shivered and coughed blood onto his lips. The muscles of his back were pierced through. All he wanted was for it to be finished. Just to die. For it all to be over.

The sand. The sand was alive now. Creeping in gritty threads over him, stretching fingers of golden yellow into his body through the holes, exploring, probing, twisting around muscle and tissue, strangling him form the inside, stealing his life and leaving only death behind. Nightmare tentacles of clotted sand. His mind froze with terror as his body fought the invasion...

_Please...please... let me die!_

...and Aaron rocked his head back and screamed a broken howl of anguish and blood wetted his mouth and lips...

-0-0-0-

The three agents sat and watched the last video clip on Morgan's computer screen, frame by frame. It wasn't easy to watch without feeling Aaron's pain in every captured image. To watch it objectively for clues, and not be drawn into his agony.

"There is a reflection of the sky in the...just here." Emily said, her voice thick with crying. "Is he in the open air do you think?"

"I think it's more likely that it is a glass roof." Spencer said, his voice shaky too. "Being outside would introduce too many new factors. This UnSub is organised, methodical."

"What about this bamboo, Reid?" Morgan said. "I thought it grew much quicker."

"Different types have different growth rates. This seems to be a slow growing species."

"Is there anything there we can follow up? How rare is it?"

"Nothing there. Bamboo is one of the commonest plants there is. It's found almost everywhere. It's just another kind of grass."

"Concentrate on the UnSub." Morgan said.

The screen they were looking at now had the UnSub at the very limit of the view. Morgan had on his lap the print outs of Marshall's known associates. He gave some to Emily and some to Reid.

"Check these against the UnSub. We might get lucky."

Reid pulled one of his sheets out and put it on top. "Look at this one, Emily."

"Do you think...?"

The woman on the known associate list was almost six feet tall, unattractive blonde. Very distinctive.

"Katherine Manson." Emily read. "Do you see what her job is?"

Reid had already seen it. She made documentary information films. "I think we need to pay her a visit."

Morgan said, "I'll see if I can get anything more from this," He indicated the computer screen. " And I'll go and question Marshall again. We haven't got much time."

Emily followed Spencer down to the SUV, and Emily drove towards Manson's place.

-0-0-0-

She lived in a tiny single storey prefab squashed between two apartment buildings. It gave the impression that it was holding the buildings apart, but was losing the battle. There were no lights on, and it looked deserted.

The two agents got out of the car, and, knees bent, adrenalin pumping, they crept to the door. Standing on either side of the door, Reid reached out and knocked.

"FBI! Miss Manson, we wish to speak with you!"

There was no sound. Emily turned the handle of the door and pushed it open. Bent low, Reid entered the tiny house. Emily behind him, standing straight.

There was definitely no one home. There were only three rooms, a kitchen cum living room, bedroom, almost completely filled with a bed, and a tiny shower room. They had a quick look round.

Reid was looking at some photographs on the table, when Emily called him over.

"It looks as if she kept a copy of all the films she made." She said. She was standing in front of a shelf unit, almost full of video tapes and rolls of 8mm film.

"Some are named, and some only have dates." Reid observed. He took a tape off the top shelf. "This seems to be the newest. Dated yesterday."

Emily switched on the TV. "Play it, Spencer."

Nervously, he put the tape in the machine next to the TV. As the machine took the tape from his hand, he felt a sick feeling in his guts. Was this it? They would soon know.

They stood back and watched as the screen burst into life.

"Oh god, it's this one. Why did it have to be this one?" Emily breathed. Neither of them wanted to watch Aaron it.They didn't need to. They had her. Emily took the tape out of the machine and returned it to the shelf.

"Let's go." Reid said. "She comes home every day to put a new tape on her shelf. We can watch and follow her."

They left the little house and went back to the car. Emily drove it along the street and parked. There was a shop across the road. Reid went over and bought a pack of Perrier while Emily called Morgan to tell him what they had. Then began the wait.

Reid hated this. Somewhere out there was a man whom they both loved with everything they had. And all they could do was sit and wait while somewhere, he was being tortured to death. They could be sitting there and he could die, and they wouldn't be able to help him.

When Reid's phone rang, it was like a knife through the silent air. He opened it. Another MMS.

At the same time, a car drove into the street. They watched as it pulled up in front of the little house.

Katherine Manson was home.

-0-0-0-

"Do you know this woman?" Morgan slid a photo of a woman across the table to Marshall. He didn't look at it.

"Never seen her before in my life." He said, a smile twitching the corners of his mouth.

"Look at it." Morgan said. He picked the picture up and held it in front of Marshall's face.

"Nope. Don't know her."

"What about this one?" A picture of another one of his 'known' associates.

"Nope."

"Well that surprises me, since it's your brother!" Morgan said angrily.

"Well, so it is!" He looked from the photo to Morgan. "Not a very good picture! I didn't recognise him."

"Why were you working at the clinic?"

"All those poor people! I just wanted to help them." He said sarcastically.

"You aren't doing yourself any favours, you know. Your reticence and sarcasm won't help you in court."

"You are wrong. It's Hotchner who's not getting any favours."

"What do you know about Hotchner?" Morgan said. He felt a rush of adrenalin at the mention of his name. This guy had just made a huge mistake.

"One of your agents, I believe. Missing isn't he?"

"He's on leave." Morgan said. "Personal time."

"You had better let me go, otherwise his time will be getting a whole lot more personal."

"Interview suspended." Morgan said, fists and jaw clenched, and left the room.

-0-0-0-

"Someone has made a serious mistake again."

His Mother hadn't come back, even though his mind was calling to her. She had left him again to his pain and fear, just as she always had. The sand creatures were sucking at him, invading him, killing him. Aaron's eyes wouldn't open. Someone was speaking, but the creature scraping and rasping through him was overwhelming all the other sounds. He wanted to see who was talking. But he didn't move. He felt fingers on his eye lids, prising them apart. He felt the coolness of something being dropped in his eye...

"You need to see this." The man said. "The drops will give you about an hour. Make the most of it."

...then the other eye. Aaron blinked. His eyes stung, but the horrible gritty feeling had subsided. The sand creature had withdrawn its rough fingers. He carefully opened his eyes and saw the man was holding a length of wood. Without saying anything, he brought it down across Aaron's shins. The sound of the scream was unearthly, terrifying. As he brought the weapon up again, blood cast of painted an arc across the glass ceiling. The second smash broke the skin down to the bone. Aaron gasped and shook, small cries of pain with every breath.

"Now you've had this before." The man said, showing him a syringe. "It is such a pity that your friends won't do as they are told. I really don't like hurting you."

He injected the drug, and left Aaron shaking and screaming.

-0-0-0-

Spencer's hands were shaking so much, he was having difficulty opening the phone. Emily gently took it from him and opened it.

"Are you ready?" she said softly.

"This could be where they kill him." Reid said. "We still have Marshall in custody."

"I know." She said. She took his hand and pressed play.

They watched a masked man put drops in Aaron's eyes. They didn't understand why, until he blinked his eyes open and looked up at the man. Emily felt her heart wrench at those eyes, once so expressive, the window to his emotions, now shuttered, blank and lifeless.  
Then they saw the man smash Aaron's shins. Emily's cry was drowned out by Aaron's scream. Reid put his arm around her, as Aaron was injected with something. Reid knew what was coming; Emily didn't.  
Several heart rending minutes of screams and cries, and a new message.

_I don't know if you realise this, but when this drug is used against terrorist prisoners, many die of heart failure. Agent Aaron Hotchner has a strong heart. He survived again. Now. How about releasing Marshall? I don't think Hotchner can take too much more."_

The phone switched off and the only thing breaking the silence was Emily's sobs.

-0-0-0-

"It's him." Morgan said to Reid. "He mentioned Hotch without being prompted. He made a mistake."

"We had a look in Manson's place. She had tapes of everything they have done to Hotch." Reid said. "We're going to follow her. It could lead us to him. And we've had another video."

Morgan was silent for a heart beat.

"Make sure your GPS is working. I'll follow you." Morgan said. He didn't ask about the video; he didn't want to know. "Watch your backs."

Reid cut the connection as Manson left her house and got back in her car. Reid started the SUV, and as Manson pulled out of her drive, Reid pulled away from the kerb.

-0-0-0-

Manson drove quickly, weaving in and out of the traffic. She was eager to get back and see if she could have another go at Hotchner before he died.

"He rose to the challenge last time!" she said out loud, laughing at her own wit. She had enjoyed it, seeing such a lovely and powerful man brought so low, and then completely unable to control his own body. Let the men smash his body; she enjoyed messing with his mind.

She glanced in the mirror before changing lanes. There was an SUV four cars back. Probably nothing, but she would keep an eye on it.

With a picture of the broken and crushed agent in her mind, and a smile on her face, she sped on towards the estate.


	11. Chase

**PERSONAL TIME  
**Chapter 11  
Chase

_**Anais Nin wrote, **__**"I postpone death by living, by suffering, by error, by risking, by giving, by losing."**_

As Spencer wove through the traffic, Emily watched Manson's car. The tension in her muscles and the strain of watching the car was giving her a headache. They couldn't lose her. This was the last best hope for finding Aaron before it was too late.

Manson's car was five in front now. Trying to follow it and still remain inconspicuous was proving a difficult task. The more Reid drove in and out of the traffic, the more attention it drew to them. He stayed in the same lane for a mile or so, trying t be invisible .

Six cars now.

"Spencer, you will have to get closer. I'm afraid I'm going to lose her." Emily said, hands on the dash, eyes staring, unblinking.

Reid changed lanes and overtook three cars and tucked back in again. They were heading out of town now. If it was difficult to follow in traffic, it would not be any easier when they were on the empty country roads.

"She's left the freeway." Emily said. "Next exit."

Reid got ready to follow. As he drove up the exit ramp, they saw that she had pulled into a lay-by. Reid drove straight past. Emily ducked down. After they rounded a corner, Reid looked for somewhere to stop. There was a small gravel parking area ahead, and Reid turned off the road.

He stared out of the window into the trees. He turned off the engine and waited. He was sure now that he had been seen. Why else would she park up like that?

But they still had the advantage. They still didn't know about Emily and Morgan. That was the key. That was how they would get Aaron out.

-0-0-0-

Manson was on the phone. "Hotchner's lover is following me in a black SUV." She was saying. "Yes, he is alone."

She laughed. She would lead him straight to Hotchner. Soon he could watch Hotchner die. "I'll make sure he doesn't lose me." She said. "How is our guest?"

He was still alive, but very sick now. "That last injection did some damage though." Phil said. "If you want another go at him, you had better get back here Sis. He won't last too much longer."

She grinned and fired up the engine.

_Follow me now, Doctor Spencer Reid. I'll try not to lose you!_

She drove past the little car park where Reid was, and headed on along the empty road.

-0-0-0-

Morgan fixed up the GPS receiver and gunned out of the car park. They were a good ten miles or so ahead of him, but he needed to catch them up. He had a strong feeling that they would need back up. He wished Garcia was in on this. Satellite would be so much better to follow Manson. They could lose her like this.

He wouldn't tell her though. He could never put her in danger. His mind flashed back to when she had been shot, and the terrible feeling he had when they thought she wasn't going to make it. He had told her that he loved her, and he still did. But it was a very special kind of love – deeper than friends, purer than lovers. It was difficult to define. He had had lovers, never had any trouble choosing the pick of the bunch. But when you can always have the most beautiful women, beauty ceased to be important. Empty headed and plastic; beautiful, yes. But his Baby Girl was something special.

He checked his direction, and headed towards the freeway.

-0-0-0-

An hour of vision, they had told him. But that hour had been spent in screaming agony. His eyes were gritty and sore again, and the pain sent shudders through his body. He closed his eyes again; closed to the searing light that seemed to burn his eyes from their sockets. Sweat ran in rivulets, mixing with blood and ran from his brow and into his hair. The cold air from the fan wasn't enough to cool his fever, and he shivered and sweated in succession. The chains were tight now, and the convulsion triggered by the last injection left a legacy of burning in his nerve endings, his skin sending messages of pain to his fevered brain. The metal rings drew blood which trickled in a continuous stream around his neck and limbs..

But the true fear was something else. There were things living in the light. They touched his skin and dug at his wounds. He felt them reaching into his nose and mouth, prying and pushing, looking for ways in, pulling apart his wounds, sliding into his blood and searching out his heart. Tentacles of light-creatures criss crossed around his brain and tightened, wringing visions of horror which dripped onto the sand like drops of water...

...water. He tried to remember what water had felt like. He tried to lick his lips, to moisten his cracked and bloodied skin. His tongue was cleaved to the roof of his mouth, dry swollen and torn.

He had forgotten water. The light creatures fought with the tentacles of sand; fought for dominance over him; more pain, more searing agony...

...he heard screaming, terrible unearthly, echoing through his head...

_Please let me die please let me die..._

Another convulsion gripped him and reality slipped away...

-0-0-0-

Manson turned into the long curved drive that led onto the estate. She had watched the SUV follow her and laughed out loud as it drove straight past the gate a few minutes behind her.

Foolish man. She had been led to understand that this Doctor Reid was some kind of genius. Hah! Some genius, to think he could defeat them on his own!

She wondered if he was going to drive up to the house, or follow in foot 'inconspicuously'. She laughed again and drove round the back of the house, and parked close to the green houses.

She was excited about seeing Hotchner again. She trembled as she remembered the last 'contact' with him. She hoped he was still alive, but if he wasn't, then so be it. She had always said she would not touch a corpse, but she was prepared to make an exception in Hotchner's case. He was too lovely to waste.

She found Phil and Stef in the gardener's shed watching Hotchner die on a CCTV screen that they had set up. It was being recorded of course, but it lacked the personal touch that Kate's filming had.

"I want another go with him before he dies." She said.

Phil handed her a key. "I don't think you'll get very far this time." He glanced at the screen. "I think he's dead. Did Doctor Reid follow you here?"

"Uh huh. He should be here any minute." She took the key and the three of them left the little shed to go and have some last games with Agent Aaron Hotchner.

-0-0-0-

Reid parked half a mile along the road.

"She must have seen us." Emily said. "Just be careful. They could be waiting for you."

"She might have seen me. But she wouldn't have seen you." Reid answered, getting his gun ready. "We should split up. If they get me, I don't want them to see you."

She nodded, checking her side arm. She didn't like the idea of splitting up. They had all learned a lesson from the Hankle experience when JJ and Reid had split up, and it almost cost Reid his life.

But the situation was different then.

She watched him jog back down the road towards the main entrance to the estate, and she climbed over the fence into the grounds.

-0-0-0-

Reid followed the drive to the house, keeping to the edge in the shadows. The more he thought about it, the more likely it seemed that he had been seen. He decided to play along. That way, he still had an advantage. He felt an excitement in his bones, thinking that he was so close to Aaron now.

The house was in darkness, but he could see light coming from the back of the house. With his back against the wall, He crept towards the back of the house, gun in both hands, held close to his chest. He thought he could hear sounds, the same sounds as he had heard on the MMS that he had been sent.

Screams. Terrible screams of fear and terror...

_I'm coming, Aaron. Please, just hold on. I'm almost there..._

His heart thumping in his chest, he reached the far end of the wall of the house. He peered around the corner. He could see a bright light ahead, behind a small cabin, shining up through the trees. Bending low, he ran to the cabin and stood by the door. He pressed his back against the wall and stood still for a moment, trying to control his breathing. Then he swung around, kicking the cabin door open.

There was no-one there, but there had been. Cigarette smoke was still drifting towards the ceiling. There was a CCTV screen on the table. He went across and looked at the image, and he felt his heart breaking in his chest. He sank down onto the bench in front of the screen, clutching his gun.

Reid felt sick. He turned off the monitor – he didn't want Emily to see this. He turned away from the screen, and ran back to the door He had but one thing on his mind, to free Aaron from this sick abuse. He saw a glass roofed building up ahead, and a bright light reaching through the glass and up to the sky, and he guessed that was where they were holding him.

He was almost at the door when he heard the familiar mechanical sound of a gun cocking.

"Ok, Doctor Spencer Reid. Don't move."

Reid froze and slowly raised his hands.

_Emily! Now..._

"Throw the gun into the bushes."

Reid threw his gun to the side. "I want to see Hotchner." He said.

"Oh you will. Go to the door and open it."

Reid walked to the door. With a shaking hand, he turned to door handle, and pushed it open.

He thought he was prepared for this. After all he had seen Aaron brought down from a strong and powerful team leader to the broken destroyed man he had seen on his phone screen. He had watched each dreadful step. But nothing could have prepared him for what was in front of him now.

Blood was everywhere – cast off on the walls and ceiling, smeared over the floor, foot prints of blood around him...

"Oh my god." He whispered. Manson was holding Aaron's face in her hands and her lips were touching his. Spencer felt sick at what he was seeing.

"For god's sake! Leave him alone! Don't do this!" Reid felt as if someone was reaching inside him and twisting his guts. "Please, leave him alone!" He felt his voice break as he felt the pain of what he was seeing.

Manson looked up at him. She was smeared with Aaron's blood across her face and on her hands. She had Aaron's blood on her lips. She touched the man's face, and stood up and stepped away from him. Reid saw Aaron's body shake and tremble and his head rocked from side to side. Reid felt tears in his eyes and he stepped forwards towards him.

"Stand still. Don't come any closer." Manson said. She stooped down and picked up a piece of wood. Reid saw that it had blood on it. It had been used to beat Aaron. She held the weapon ready to hit Reid with it.

Reid ignored her command. He needed to get to Aaron. He called out to him. He took another step.

"Stand still." This command was from behind him. He took another step.

"I need to be with him." He said softly

Something hit the back of his head, and the blow sent him to his knees. He rested, leaning forwards on his hands for a moment. Then he crawled forwards, still calling Aaron's name. Aaron's eyes were closed against the light, but Reid could hear the painful jagged sound as Aaron sucked air into his dying body.

He didn't actually hear the shot, but he felt it. He looked down at the crimson flower that exploded from his chest.

_Emily... where are you?_

He reached for Aaron's hand. All he wanted now was to die with his hand in Aaron's. He fell forwards and stretched out his arm. His blood ran through the sand and mingled with Aaron's. He felt the coolness of the fan, and the movement of his hair. He could feel the fevered heat from Aaron's body, their fingers were separated by an eternity as Reid's vision clouded and he fell into blackness.

_Aaron... Aaron, I am sorry ...I was too late..._


	12. End Times

**A/N Sorry for the delay in updating. I hate it when a day goes by and I haven't done any words, but I've had two horrid days, and I've been ill as well.  
But all better now, and on with the show! Don't forget to leave feedback, it makes this bunny very happy!**

**PERSONAL TIME  
**Chapter 12  
End times

_**If you have something to say, say it. You never know when it will be your last chance. Tomorrow could be too late - ANON**_

Aaron thought he could hear Spencer. He was used to hearing voices that weren't there, but this one, he wanted to be there so much that he made it real in his mind. The sweet sound of his voice was making his heart explode in his chest; heartbeats that shook his body and the pain of happiness that he was going to die listening to the voice of the man who loved him. He was calling a name – his name –Aaron.

_He's calling me I can't call back please don't leave me...I am here Spencer I am here..._

The name again...I try to lift my arms but there is nothing there; it's as if I don't have arms they don't belong to me... I can stretch my fingers? I try, stretch them towards his voice, towards his calling my name – Aaron – Spence, I am here...

Then it changes. The voice stops, an explosion rips apart the fragile air, and a warm spray across his face and chest, on his dry brittle lips – blood – and a sound of something falling...

_Ohgod ohgod ohgod Spencer don't go don't die please I love you..._

And suddenly nothing...

-0-0-0-

Emily turned around and unhooked her jacket off the fence. As she did so, she saw vehicle lights coming along the road. She ducked down behind the fence, and watched. When the car pulled up next to hers, she felt a lump in her throat. She rested her gun on the fence bar and waited.

When Morgan got out of the car, she sighed with relief and stood up.

"You gave me a fright!" she said, and briefly explained what was happening.

"Ok, sounds good. I'll come with you." He jumped the fence and the two of then started to push their way through the undergrowth. It was pretty hard going. It was dark under the trees, and it wasn't easy to see where they were going, even with flash lights. Fallen leaves were slippery underfoot, and several times Emily had to grab hold of a low branch to stop herself from falling. But before too long, the house could be seen in silhouette through the branches.

Keeping in the shelter of the trees, they skirted the building and went towards the light that was coming from behind the house.

There was no movement that they could see in the scattered out buildings, but one caught their eye. It had a glass roof, and light from it shone upwards into the late evening sky. Emily pointed to it, and Morgan nodded in agreement. Carefully they walked towards it, keeping low, and keeping quiet.

Then suddenly the silence was broken as the sound of a gunshot split the air.

_Oh my god! Spencer!_

Emily broke into a run. She sensed Morgan behind her doing the same.

-0-0-0-

"Get rid of it."

"Oh well done, that's crapped up our plan hasn't it?"

"It was gone to hell anyway, the moment this Fed decided to take us on instead of doing as he was told."

"I guess they didn't love each other as much as we thought."

"And who the hell's fault was that then, Kate. It was..."

"Never mind all that. Recriminations are for later. Just get rid of the corpses. Dump them in the silage tank. By winter there'll be nothing left."

Kate and another guy got Reid by the legs and arms. His head fell forward as he was lifted off the sandy ground.

He groaned in pain as they began to drag him. Kate dropped his legs.

"Hey! He's not dead. I'm not dumping a living man in the silage."

Phil sighed. He kind of liked his sister to have a feminine side, but why it had to manifest itself now...?

"Ok, drop it; I'll put it out of its misery."

He took a step towards Reid, who was lying prone before him. His chest was rising and falling in erratic bubbly cycles. He lowered his shotgun to the back of his neck.

And that was the last thing he ever did.

Emily's gun discharged and blew the man's face away.

She stood in the doorway, shaking and tears running down her face. "Don't you touch him!"

Morgan stood beside her.

"The next person that moves get's the same!" he yelled. In the back of his mind he saw Emily fire her gun without issuing a warning. He briefly glanced at Emily's shaking hand.

"Go and disarm them, Prentiss."

He was relieved when Emily put her gun away and went round the room collecting firearms. Then she cuffed the woman and two men together and around a pillar. The woman struggled.

"I want to see my brother!" she was yelling. You killed him, you bitch!" Emily smacked her face.

"Shut up." Was all she said.

Emily ran to Aaron. She touched his face and spoke to him. He made soft sounds from the back of his dry throat, letting her know he was alive. She pulled at the metal rings he was chained to.

Morgan was with Reid, and on the phone, calling for help. Reid's head was resting in Morgan's lap, he was bleeding on Morgan's legs. He looked up at his 'brother'.

"Hotch?"

Morgan stroked his hair. "Emily's with him." He took Reid's hand, and with the other, he pressed down on the exit wound on his chest. He wondered how he could still be alive. He could hear Emily shouting.

"How do I loosen these?" She had dug into the sand and was pulling at the chain attached to Aaron's neck. "Tell me or I will shoot someone else!"

"Emily!" She swung round to look at Morgan. He had never seen fear in her eyes before. "Emily," softer this time, "There is a crank handle below Hotch's feet. Try that."

She quickly crawled to where Morgan was indicating. There was a handle there which she carefully turned. She didn't know which way would loosen them, and she didn't think he could survive them being tightened.

She went back to Aaron. The band around his neck was looser now; it no longer was cutting into his flesh, pressing on his wind pipe. She pulled it and carefully lifted it over his head. Then his arms.

"I am going to have to move your arms, Aaron. I am so sorry if this hurts."

The rings were loose. She pushed them down past his elbow, and lifted his arm through the loop. She started to cry when Aaron screamed; muscles hurt that had been denied movement for three days.

"I am so sorry, Aaron." She crossed to his other side and freed his other arm. There was no broken scream this time.

"Aaron! Aaron..." She went back to his face and touched him softly.

He had fainted. He was still breathing.

Now she had to free his legs.

The rings had almost disappeared into the muscle of his thighs. Gently, she lifted the loop and tried to lower it, but it wouldn't move further than his calf. Carefully, she bent his knee, and lifted the bloody ring over his foot. Then she did the same to the other leg.

She looked back at him, and she needed to hold him. She knew that he was impaled on the sand, and all the time he was laying there, the wounds would get deeper. She knelt astride him, and with one hand behind his head, the other under his back, she lifted him and held him tightly to her chest.

She felt the muscles of his back quiver as she held him, his head resting on her shoulder. She needed to move him.

Holding him still, she moved so that she was kneeing beside him. Leaning his body against hers, she slipped one arm under his knees, and lifted him away from the lethal spikes. There was a table in the room. She carried him to the table and laid him on his side. Carefully she lowered him into the recovery position, removing her jacket and pressing it against his back.

"Aaron, help is on its way. I'll get you some water."

Aaron's hand caught hers. She pushed his wayward hair from his forehead. His dark eyes questioning her.

She glanced at Morgan.

"He's ok, as long as the medics are quick."

She turned back to Aaron. "He's ok, Aaron. Don't worry."

His hand fell away and she saw him relax.

There was a tap and sink in the corner of the room. She washed two cups from the sink and filled them. One she took to Morgan, who held it to Reid's lips. The other she took to Hotch.

She wet her hand and wiped Reid's blood off his mouth, the she wet his lips with the sweet water. She allowed a little to run into his mouth. She thought his eyes flickered.

"Ok, Aaron, just take a little." He tried to lick his lips but he needed more water to moisten his tongue. He opened his mouth and she let a little more run between his lips.

She longed to kiss him. She touched his mouth with her fingers, and lowered her face and kissed his forehead. He tasted salty and dry.

"Have some more water." She said, her voice trembling with love. "You are going to be ok, you're with friends now."

-0-0-0-

Morgan rocked Spencer in his arms. "It's going to be ok, just keep breathing for me."

Reid looked up at Morgan. "Hotch... ok?"

"He's fine, Kiddo. Just keep breathing for me."

"Help... Aaron... "

"It's ok, Emily's with him."

Reid seemed to relax at this. Morgan held him close and rocked.

_Please, almighty god, I know you can do anything, please don't let my friends die..._

Morgan had tears falling from his eyes as he looked down at his 'little brother'.

The sounds of sirens in the air, Morgan felt a profound sense of relief. He looked at Emily. He didn't think she had heard them. She had her arms around Aaron, crying onto him, pressing her face into his neck, holding him against her. She was covered with his blood, and he with her tears. She was crying out low sounds of grief as she rocked him.

"Emily, the ambulance is here." Morgan said. "Help is here."

"It's too late! Oh god, it's too late!"

Emily looked over at Morgan, her face smeared with his blood, wet with her own tears. "He's dead. Morgan, they killed him." She clutched at his body, as if her strength could revive him. "Oh god he's dead... please, please wake up, Aaron, I need to tell you something!"


	13. Hope of Recovery

**PERSONAL TIME  
**Chapter 13  
Hope of Recovery

"It's ok, Miss. Please let him go now. We need to check him over."

Emily looked up at the paramedic. Her eyes were full of tears. She couldn't wipe them away, her arms were around Hotch.

"He's dead." She whispered. "Please, let me hold him."

"You must let go." The man prised Emily's arms from Hotch and moved him away. Emily broke down.

"Prentiss! I need you over here!" Morgan's voice cut through her grief like a double edged sword. She looked up at him, and wiped the tears out of her eyes.

"Ok." She stood on shaky legs and went over to where two medics were working on Spencer. He was conscious and in pain. The medics cut away his shirt, and tried to stop the bleeding. A thick pad was placed over the exit wound. He moaned in agony as the pad soaked the blood, and another was placed on top. Emily sat down next to him and took his hand. He turned his head unsteadily.

"Hotch?"

Emily glanced over at him. He was lying on the table on his back. Someone was doing chest compressions, another was intubating him. Blood was dripping off the table onto the concrete floor. The UnSubs were gone. She was glad; she didn't want them to see this.

"The medics are with him now." She said. He had died in her arms. She didn't tell him that though.

They rolled Spencer onto his side, and taped a pad across the entry wound, and laid him back down.

"Ok, Doctor Reid, we're going to put you on a stretcher now."

He turned to Emily.

"Don't let him die, Emily." He said softly, his wide hazel eyes huge and tear filled. "He cannot die."

Emily took both hands in hers. "Just get yourself better, Spence."

They lifted him onto the stretcher. He made a little gasp of pain, and he bit his lip. Emily brushed his hair back off his face.

He smiled a shaky smile at her, and the paramedics took him. Morgan went with Reid. Emily went back to Aaron.

"Please, let me help." She said. She reached out to touch him. "Is he dead?"

One of the medics led her away. "Let them do their work. If he can be saved, they will save him."

Emily looked back over her shoulder. They were getting the CPR paddles ready. The tube in his throat was attached to a bulb. Someone was pumping air into his lungs. She couldn't bear it – this beautiful man, a man carrying so much pain, brought so low, and for nothing. If only she could carry some of his pain; she would gladly die for him.

"Please save him!" she sobbed. Please don't let him die!"

One of the medics called her. "If you want to help, can you keep up his breathing?"

She stepped forwards. "I'll do anything. Please, just don't give up!"

Standing at Aaron's head, she squeezed the bulb, sending air into his lungs. The paddles were put on his chest.

"Clear!"

She stepped away from the table.

_Come on, Aaron love. I need you ...I have so much I need to tell you..._

In terrible slow motion, she watched Aaron's back arch as the electric current passed through his heart. He made a small cry as air left his lungs.

"Aaron! Please, come back to us!" Emily cried. Don't go!"

The medic continued with the CPR.

"We need to get him to hospital."

Very quickly they lifted his broken inert body onto a stretcher, and carried him to the ambulance. Emily, all the time ventilating his lungs, and holding his cold pale hand. She was shaking, so afraid of losing him before she ever told him how she felt. She just needed that chance...

_Come on, Sweetheart, come on..._

-0-0-0-

Aaron Hotchner was far away. He felt hands holding his, and he knew someone was breathing for him. It was so good not to have to do it, just to lie there exhausted and some body else doing the hard work of staying alive.  
He was too tired, in too much pain, and too hurt to want to breathe on his own. He had felt lips kiss his forehead – Emily? – and it made him want to live, but only for a moment. When the kiss had faded, then so did the fleeting lust for life

_Haley why did you hurt me so much? I tried so hard for you, when I was with you, I gave you everything... why did you hurt me? Was I so bad?_

"He's got tears!" Emily called to the paramedics. "He's got tears in his eyes!"

No one listened. In the distance she heard "Clear!" and she stepped back and watched the man she loved convulse on the table.

And again...

And again...

And this time, his heart carried on.

He was alive.

One of the medics turned to Emily. "He has you to thank for his life. Normally we would have called."

"He's ok?" Emily could hardly believe it."You've brought him back?"

"His heart is beating. Now the next thing is to get him breathing on his own."

Someone took the bulb from Emily, and connected the trachea tube to a pump. Emily went to Aaron's side and held his hands again.

Aaron knew something had changed. He felt something burst into life in his chest; something that hurt. He wanted it to stop...

_Please, make it stop..._

-0-0-0-

Spencer was with Morgan. Morgan sat by him and held his hand – nothing intimate, just enough to show him he was there. The pad on his chest was blood soaked again, and another was added. His breaths were bubbly and pink foam was at the corner of his mouth. Morgan wiped it away.

"You're going to be ok, Kid. Just don't give up."

Reid opened his eyes and looked into Morgan's eyes. "Aaron? Did ...he die?" he said softly. "I heard Emily... say he was... dead... did I?"

"I don't know, Spencer. When we left, the medics were working on him."

"That's good." He said, and closed his eyes again. Morgan stared into space and gripped his hand, wondering why Reid hadn't come to him sooner. Then he remembered their other team member, who was still in intensive care.

"Looks like the three of you will be all together again in the same ward." Morgan said. "You guys are making this to be a habit."

-0-0-0-

In a bed in the corner of ICU, David Rossi was waking up after a long sleep. He was lonely, and so spent most of his time sleeping. It hurt like hell if he tried to move, but he was feeling encouraged that it seemed that everything was in working order. He had been told that there was a chance that it might look ok, but wouldn't actually work. But it did, and he was very happy about it. Pity it wasn't the kind of thing one shouted from the rooftops, not in Virginia, not even for an Italian. Maybe in Italy though. He made a decision there and then to visit his roots and do just that. He smiled to himself, wondering what his Mama would make of that!

Something was going on. The nurses were making up beds for two new patients. He would be glad of company, but he didn't want anyone to be hurt just so he'd have someone to talk to. He watched as the curtains were drawn around the two beds, and the patients were brought in.

The first was a young woman or man. He or she had long hair, but that was all he could make out. Several doctors and two ICU nurses went behind the curtain with the new patient. He pulled himself up so that he was almost sitting. It made his eyes water, but he wanted to see what was going on. It was so damned boring in here, anything to watch counted as great excitement.

Then he heard the name – Spencer Reid! They were asking if he was comfortable.

Spencer Reid? How many Spencer Reids were there? Not many - that would be too much of a coincidence. He waited until one of the nurses came out and he called her over.

"Is the new patient Doctor Spencer Reid with the FBI?" he asked.

"Yes. He has been shot, but we think he'll make it." She said. "Why? Do you know him?"

"We work together."

"Oh so you will probably know the other patient who is on his way."

"Aaron Hotchner." Rossi said. "Am I right?"

"Yes! How did you know?" she raised her eyebrows in surprise. "He's in a bad way though I'm afraid. He's very poorly."

"When he's in and settled, may I sit out with them?"

"I should think so. You will be moving up to a ward soon, but unless the bed is needed, it will probably do Spencer and Aaron good to have you close by."

Dave smiled at her as she went back to work. When the next patient was brought in, Prentiss was with him. This was Aaron. He just hoped he would be ok.

-0-0-0-

Hotch had been in theatre, they had to plate his right shin that had been cracked, and his jaw and cheek needed to be plated. The wounds on his back were deep, but they were expected to heal as were the wounds around his neck arms and thighs. The skin was pulled together and stitched. Twice they lost him in theatre. It was almost as if he didn't want to live, and they just kept dragging him back again. He still had machines breathing for him. It was like he'd given up.

Reid had had extensive surgery on his chest wound. Both lungs were working now. David sat beside him and chatted.

"I have a confession to make." Reid said suddenly. "It's about you getting shot. It was my fault. You were coming to meet me."

"No, Reid. It was Haley Hotchner. I had an e-mail..."

"I sent the e-mail." Reid said. "I wanted to tell you what was going on, but our e-mails were compromised."

"So the same UnSub put us all here." Dave said. "Ah now things are starting to make sense."

"They knew everything I did. I still don't know how."

"Did you do a bug sweep?"

"Of my car, my apartment, my desk... everything."

"Your bag?"

Reid stared at him.

"Oh my god! My bag!" Reid's eyes huge with shock. "I didn't check my bag!"

"Where is it now?"

"In the cupboard... Nurse, please, I need something!"

The nurse came over to them. "Please, I need my bag."

The nurse smiled and took Spencer's tatty messenger bag out of the cupboard and put it on the bed.

"I hope you are not planning to do any work!"

"Oh no. Just want to see what's in here."

When she had left, Reid tipped the bag onto the bed, and one at a time. He and Dave returned the things to the bag.

"Roll or crime scene tape, letter addressed to Spencer..."

"Actually, Dave. That can go in the bin now." Reid took the envelope, and tore it in half, dropping it in the bin. "It was from Gideon. He let me down, Dave. I don't know why I still carry his letter. He doesn't deserve that recognition."

Dave didn't say anything, just carried on replacing Spencer's belongings. When everything was back, only his wallet remained.

And in the corner behind the notes, was a tiny bug. Reid looked at it on his hand. "So that's how they did it!"

-0-0-0-

Dave sat with Aaron for a while, so that Emily could get a shower and change of clothes. He told Aaron that they had found a bug in Reid's messenger bag, and then he told him about his Italian holiday plans, and why!

"Maybe you would join me, Aaron. We could have some fun!"

Aaron wasn't hearing very well. When they screwed his face back together, something had happened to his hearing. It could be temporary, but it really didn't matter. He knew the voice though. Dave – a good friend. But it wasn't enough. The effort to live was just too much.

He remembered that he had been shot, and was in a bad way. It was good to hear his voice. He would have liked to speak, but he had something in his throat.

His arms were very weak, and only felt comfortable stretched out from his body. The doctors had forced them down and made him cry while he was unconscious. He moved his hands to the trachea tube and tried to pull it out, and the movement brought new tears to his eyes, but at least he didn't make a sound.

Dave caught his hand. "No, Aaron. You must leave it. It's helping you breathe."

The look of anguish in Aaron's dark expressive eyes broke Dave's heart.

"Hold on, Aaron. You'll be fine soon..."

Aaron thought about that. Would he ever be right again after what had happened? Abducted from his home, tortured and beaten over three days, without being told why? He still didn't understand.

But later...he would find out later.

It would be so easy to give up, just to lay there and die. That was what he wanted to do, give up, end the struggle.

Who would cry?

Then he thought of the people who said that they loved him – as a friend, as a lover, as a father...

He couldn't just give up. He had more to live for that many who struggled twice as hard.

He reached out to Dave with a shaking hand, and felt the warmth of his hand in his.

Yes. It was worth the fight...

**END**

_**"I can't seem to regulate his heartbeat." -- Nyland  
"That's because you're incompetent. Let me have a crack at it." – Geiger**_


End file.
